Avast and Away!
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: When the notorious pirate captain Belle needs a new cabin boy she readily finds one in the captives of a small, ransacked village. A crippled Rumpelstiltskin begs to not be parted with his son. Intrigued and always planning she takes both as captives. What will two souls discover out upon the listless seas?
1. Fires

_A/N: In the words of Regina on the season four Promo: "Here we go again."_

**Disclaimer: Nope I don't own a thing. **

**~8~8~**

Agonizingly bright orange light stabbed painfully into Rumpelstiltskin burning vision whichever way he dared to turn. He seemed as though he were struggling in a swirling pot of miserable heat. Intolerable heat as fierce as a kiln's pressed his pathetically skinny forms at all sides and seemed to grope at him with gnashing teeth. Oily gray smoke churned as evil clouds come down from the firmament to choke the little air that filtered through the wet rag wrapped firmly at his nose and mouth.

Fire. The word blaze as the inferno did all around him. Fire.

The knobby crutch clutched desperately in his calloused grasp was akin to a hot pans handle in his sweaty, slipping grip. The spinner lumbered and stumbled through the flames and swirling embers and peered as far as his tear stained eyes could allot through the dense smog that so swarmed and smothered about him.

Somewhere in the flames that burst and clawed out with fiery talons all around him was home. Somewhere in the plumes of gluttonous wrath and the sparks that swirled was Baelfire, his precious son.

Wary hands daring to pry the wet rag from his mouth, he hacked in the smoke and called out over the screams and pleas of the conflagration engulfed village. "Bae! Son! Can you hear me?" he screamed as best he could in his errant panic. Fear galloped as hot as the flames through his veins. He had to find his son; he had to be alive and safe. There was nothing else in the world that mattered.

Hope that some word would reach him struck weakly through his heart, but all that returned was the roar of the flames to cruelly dash his hope. Everything seemed to rise to a horrendous symphony that could potentially drown out his son. The beams that kept the roofs and gables cracked as loud as thunder as they split into fire engulfed splinters that hurtled to the charred ground. Thick patches of roofing as dry and brittle as tinder crackled like an old woman's incessant gossip about him to buffer the sound that could have belong to his dying son.

Everywhere there was noise of death and destruction but not of Bae.

He wheezed as the smoke found purchase upon his tongue and jammed down to clog his throat. Hastily the spinner shifted the cloth over his mouth and nose again. There was too much risk to keep the cloth away from his airways for long. The rag had a wretched stink but at least he wasn't dead of smoke inhalation. Yet.

For the moment however, his death lingering so near in the midst of the hazardous smoke was not the first thought that raced through his mind. At least, not for himself. In the moment he cared not one whit for his life, but for Bae's. He needed to find his son and try to take him away from the madness that had swooped upon their tiny village.

At the thought of having left his son alone, he cursed himself thrice for a fool. He shouldn't have let him stay home by himself but spinning had to be done while he himself had to venture and find any good soul willing to purchase a poor cowards wares so they could eat another day.

He had been out doing just that, trying to peddle his spools of wool to a woman eager to toss a few copper coins his way, when _they _had come down to destroy the only life he had ever known. He hadn't been so far from his hovel but they had swept through the town like a northern gale and the shire had erupted like dry nesting from the murderous sparks the intruders wielded.

The entire village was doused in chaos wherever the gluttonous bickering flames leapt. Animals clucked, bawled, barked, and roamed or stampeded heedlessly to escape the flames. People Rumpel had known all his life dashed before him in blurs of panic. Children wailed and coughed in the smoke and mothers cried out for their young in shrill, crying voices. Men either tried to gather their families or fend off an attacker that was by far more powerful than they.

Bodies lay strewn like horrid surprises beneath people's feet. One could only hope they were not related for there was no time to truly configure just who lay dead through the burns, cuts, and bruises. Indeed some men from the old war had fought but they were few and far between, and if the blood mingled with the dust was anything to be accounted for, the men of the village were losing.

The thought strobed wildly about his mind like a ball of angry light and he grimaced deeper despite the smoke and bite of flames that pawed about his scorched body. Had he the chance he could have possibly regained some respect and honor back by aiding the men who tried to rally a defense but his son and their safety was more important.

Focusing on that thought, his last rope to courage, Rumple clambered and staggered as best he could through the blindness. The gray smoke belched and billowed all about him and the way, he thought, led to his home.

Every so often he dared jerk down the rag around is mouth and call out the name of his boy and yet every time his voice became hoarser and fainter.

He hoped Bae had perhaps made good an escape but knowing his son he was probably out looking for hi-

"Papa!" a familiar fourteen year old voice coughed out over the smoke.

Relief filled the spinner like a draught of cold water tossed over his head. His cast his previous thought away, his mind only for his son. As he heard his son's voice, rough, but alive, the fires seemed to beat back as his hope sprang forward to hasten the flames of demise away.

"Bae!" he hallooed back and stammered in the direction of the voice. "Bae, son speak again, where are you?"

He had to be close! The voice didn't lie!

"Here, Papa," the voice came again, nearer to Rumpelstiltskin's delight. His son was indeed breathing and not so far off!

Using his crutch like a blind man's staff, the crippled fanned the wood out bit by bit to help his way. He stumbled and bumped through the debilitating flames searching desperately for his boy. His shin throbbed with the extra weight but he endured, as he always had, when matters came to his son.

At last a small hand eagerly grabbed the ragged sleeve of his tunic and for the moment nothing else in all the world mattered.

Grabbing on to the hand that clutched on to his shirt, the spinner pulled the lad in close. "Bae you're alright?" he asked, his voice faintly muffled by the rag.

Hugging his father tight, the boy nodded. Hand gripped tight to his father's tunic, he kept close to the familiar thin body. His throat was too chaffed and sore from the smoke for much else. But he was alright. His father had come for him.

Everything would be alright then, Rumpel told himself with his son so close. Items, wool, coins could be replaced, his son could not. Nothing else mattered but his boy, his Baelfire.

Grasping his son with one arm, the cripple began to move back the way he had come. The smog was still thick as a sea fog, but with his precious boy, the heat was a summer's sun. "C'mon, Bae, if we can reach the edge of the woods then maybe we'll be safe."

The woods would provide relative safety, he knew very well. They could hide in the old underbrush piled high with seasons upon season dead leaves or in the ditch at the bend in the road. Once the place was safe and the smoke had shredded away then they would see what could be salvaged of their home.

And then? The thought stabbed a needle of trepidation and horror into his heart but he ignored the fast approaching future. At present their main goal was to stay alive and together.

"The forest you say? Well that would have been a fine plan a few moments ago. My condolences but I don't think you're going to get there," a careless voice intoned cheerily from their left.

Swerving to their left, both son and father stared in horror as a medium sized, but strong man, appeared like a ghost through the smoke. Dressed in black as some phantom would, he held a rough piece of wool cloth over his face. Even still, his wickedly crazed smile seemed to pierce through the cloth and the smoke to reach them. A dangerously sharp cutlass' curved blade lay dull in the smoke in his hands.

Capturing father and son, the oddly dressed man easily toted the two away with a few prods of his weapon. Weak from smoke and frightened by the cutlass wielding man they could do no more than be carried away by one of the raiders that had ransacked the village.

~8~8~

Rumpelstiltskin greedily gulped the putrid but mostly smoke free air as they finally came clear of the worst of the disaster. His feet stumbled and he lagged behind with his limp as he and his son were dragged out of the inferno. The last of the flames seemed to sting all the fiercer as though angry two more had escaped their hungry clutches before they turned to find more demise to feast upon.

While the ruins of the village were left behind him what lay before him was little better. What once had been the wide road to the village was filled with captured people from the town.

Bloody stumps wrapped in ragged cloth hung from silent men. Blood flowed in a collective rivulet that washed down into the ditch as a stream of scarlet gore. Burns both minor and fierce branded every form. The smell of burning flesh and burning hair overpowered any other. Wails and shrieks of women torn from husbands and wounded warriors and children piteously filled the air. What the smoke had masked was now in the light and there was nothing but decimation and fear in every eye and every heart.

The village was utterly demolished and so were the people. Daring a swift look back, Rumpelstiltskin noted not a house, not a barn, not an inn would be left standing for any of them to return to. The fields had been pillaged early and by no little band of bandits looking for a belly full. No, the people, animals, who had done the ignoble deed, scum, filthy and horrid to the last.

By their clothes and their drawls the fact was obvious they were pelagic killers. They word faded bawdy clothes and tarnished hoops in their ears. Swords hung from red sashes and dirty unclad feet tramped the bloody dust. They looked hard hearted brigands all and as they were put with the rest of the gathered survivors, Rumpel quivered inwardly as he possibly guessed their fate.

These were no regular bandits. These were pirates.

Fear one more wrought icy shackles about his heart. With his boy safe he shriveled inwardly and quailed as a mere coward. There was no escape from them, he bemoaned inwardly.

Laughing heartily as though they were all gathered to some celebration feast, their captor herded them with the rest of the prisoners. "In you go, gentlemen!" He shoved the spinner into the gang of terrified villagers.

Unable to support the sudden shift, his leg screaming in agony, the cripple stumbled hard to the ground. Sharp stones cut into his hands and knees as he landed but he dared not cry out. Biting his bottom lips until a trickle of blood brooked down his mouth, he clutched close to his son and scampered to the edge of the knot of prisoners. Squeezing tight into the mass, he tried to make himself as small and meaningless as possible. He wanted none to notice him or his son for some cruelty.

"Keep quiet, Bae," he muttered fearfully to his boy. "Keep your head down and don't make a sound." There very lives could depend upon them being unnoticed.

Eyes wide with terror the boy nodded and pinched his lips shut.

Knowing that he would obey, the spinner cautiously began to espy what was happening. He didn't have to seek very far before a strong voice broke through the agony of the prisoners.

"Jefferson what are you doing with those two? You weren't told both come back with any prisoners," one of the pirates growled from the front of the gathering.

From his subservient posture on the blood slick ground, Rumpel dared a glance at the man who had lugged them to the road. He seemed much less a threat out of the smoke. He looked like the rest of the fellows save a dirty patched coat that looked pilfered from some old ball and a top hat stained by soot and smoke sat jauntily atop his head.

In retaliation the captor laughed dryly. He swung his head back to the unfortunate pair of father and son. "I found them on my way. You know I don't like coming back to the captain empty handed."

Before the large, burly fellow could snap back another voice interposed. "Captains coming! No squabbling if you value your cut."

Immediately both men quieted as though some intangible hand had pulled their tongue and bound them into knots. The one with the top hat, Jefferson, as Rumpel had heard him been called even doffed his dumpy hat as some gesture of respect.

Rumpelstiltskin blood ran cold as the herald gave the alert of the captain once more and the rest of the killers quieted from their foul enjoyment of the ransacking. A strange silence shivered over the raiders and the prisoners alike. Scream were reduced to mutters and the moans of the dead and dying seemed to almost float away with the smoke.

As he had feared before, the raiders were pirates, he knew definitely now that they had mentioned a captain. Now was to come the worse part. All helpless captives were at a captor's mercy. Any captain could potentially do anything to let them free, or to board them all on deck for slavery in some faraway land. The thought of torture sprang to the spinners mind but he pushed the thought away to keep from whimpering in terror.

What would this captain be like, the spinner wondered frighteningly, and then cursed himself from ever to have to find out. Were the matter up to him he would never like to clasp eyes on another pirate in all his days. Clutching his son a bit tighter he anxiously stared as the rest as the captain arrived to the burnt town.

His jaw swung as the figure mounted the small hill of the road. He had expected some rough, uncouth barbarian, or a sly wheedling man who had some sort of charm all the women seemed to love and all the boys emulated in their games. Instead, the had gotten… a woman. A beautiful woman.

And looking at her, Rumpel could only guess that fact made her so much the prouder. Head high, gait confident, she exuded the ruthlessness of a pirate and the intellect to back up her rule and ferocity that dubbed her captain.

His eyes sat stapled upon her as she stood at the crest of the hill, for that was all he could manage in that moment, but to stare at the mixture of death and beauty that had arrived.

~8~8~

Belle had always prided her men on their work. Staring at them all she observed the neatness in which they had accomplished her commands. Quick, bloody, and efficient, that's how they toiled in their vile deeds.

As her eyes scanned over at the damaged that rose in thick plumes behind the pirates she could not help but feel the same satisfaction well in her once more. Oh yes, her men were good.

A light wind rife with blood and smoke stirred playfully through her light umber mane that hung free and wild down past her shoulders. Dressed provocatively in leather men clothes of red and brown she cut a decidedly neater and cleaner figure than her compatriots.

Where they were coarse and grimy she was lithe and neat. Her blade was tucked into a scabbard and looked a poniard rather than some clumsy curved weapon. Her eyes, as bright as the sapphires in her stolen hoards, mercilessly scanned the spattering of cowering captives like a wolf among a prized flock of sheep.

"Well aren't you all a lucky lot," she began, her words light and idle in some accent that could not have been placed for all the gold in the realms. Eyes ever roving she slowly winded her way down to the prisoners. "Your village has been chosen to help re-supply my noble crew for a venture we're taking. As a reward you may keep your lives."

An audible sigh shivered through the frightened crowd like a peal of thunder. They were rough and ragged but they would live. This captain, whoever she was, at least would allot them that mercy.

Rumpel's thin, tired shoulders slumped at the excellent news. Their lives were no longer in danger and not only that but he had Bae who had escaped the flames as well. Whatever would come next need not matter. They would find something.

"However," she continued, her smile never leaving her lips, "My crew does need a cabin boy." Stopping finally, the captain stood right before the prisoners. Her azure eyes roved the masses and came right upon one that would suit her needs. "Him." She pointed her poniard to Baelfire. "He looks capable. He'll do." She turned to the man who had been squabbling with Jefferson. "Gaston take him."

In an instant the frail spinner's already tenuous world came crashing all about him. The fire was one thing, the capture another, losing everything they had even more, but now…. Terror seized his heart with dagger claws that scarped the last remnants of his calm away as a deathly realization took him thrall. Despite all the hazards they had just so recently overcome another, impossible, immovable one had swatted them down. Now there truly was no way to pry his son back to him. The pirates were as final as death.

Grunting once, the bulk of a man strode forward. Before Rumpel could even formulate a word, the large man grabbed Bae by the back of his ragged tunic. Hauling him with a strength born on the high seas, Gaston nearly lifted the boy off the ground. Indeed he would have had Rumpel not acted.

Grasping the edge of his son's ankle in a tight hug, the cripple hung on desperately to his boy. "No, please," he begged piteously, his weary body fighting to keep the boy stationed to the ground, the only home he had ever known. "Not my son, please."

He couldn't lose Bae. What would he do without his son? After everything that had happened. How could he still lose him after fire and pirates and the smoke? How could one woman take him? This woman who had not even raised a hand to execute them no less!

"Papa!" Bae cried as the hulk of a man attempted to rip him from his father. Refusing to remain idle he squirmed and struggled like an eel in Gaston's clutches. His worn fingers clawed at suntanned skin and scarped over old scars. He couldn't be separated from his father!

"Now now he'll be well taken care of," Jefferson offered in a careless sort of fashion to the spinner. He acted as though the cripple were a child with a toy being taken away.

A disgusted grimace pulled at Gaston's chilled features as he endured the annoyance, at best, that was Baelfire. The boy fought like a wildcat but his strikes were as a flies and unlike Jefferson he had no such inclination to soothe fears. Raising a foot he aimed a brutal kick at the spinner whilst trying to fend the boy from clawing out his eyes. "You'd best let go if you value your life, cripple!" he threatened darkly.

Though the captain had given them their lives, he would beg her pardon later after he gutted the spinner who dared defy the captain's orders.

Rumpel's head swam dizzyingly as the kick wrought pale blue stars to his vision. Light strobed through his eyes and a dull pain swam through his skull. Still he clung on desperately, a limpet attached to his son. He couldn't lose Bae. Better to die than lose his son.

"Please you don't understand." Blood dribbled from the edge of his mouth with each strike. "I'll do anything, I'll give you anything, please just don't take my boy."

Gaston aimed a few more kicks to the spinner. Each time the cripple's head snapped back but he was as a limber sapling always springing up once more. "He's no longer your concern cripple," the pirate spat acidly.

His temper only flared with a struggling Bae and a whimpering father at his leg. As the boy kicked and scratched the brute finally tossed the boy to the ground. A cloud of dust rose about Bae and he lay stunned at the brute's feet.

"Enough of this," Gaston snarled murderously and drew his cutlass. The blade gleamed in the haze of sunlight that filtered through the black smoke above. Raising the steel high he aimed to strike the helpless spinner down. At least then he might not be scratched to death by a stupid boy.

Frozen in terror, the spinner watched helplessly as the blade came hissing down to steal his life. For an instance he caught a reflection in the steel as the blade sang nearer. Only inches away he whimpered for mercy and closed his eyes tight. He raised an arm as though he could have blocked such a blow.

An audible clash and rasp of steel filtered through the air, snatching the thought of death away and sending the dark shadow back to the burning town. Confused that no other pain had pierced him, the spinner uneasily open an eye to see what had occurred. Was this death he wondered absently for a moment before he saw the one responsible for his life.

All froze to see the captain blocking the steel of Gaston with her poniard. A slight smile tiled her full lips as she slowly withdrew her blade from the parry.

"Now Gaston lets not be so hasty," she replied mildly neither angered nor amused at the spectacle of a father trying to preserve his son. "This man has me intrigued," she admitted as she sheathed her blade.

Indeed the begging man had sparked curiosity. The man was obviously a maimed cripple. His leg was bound in rags and a staff lay nearby. His clothes were stained as and had not been new even before the fire. His soft brown eyes told of horror and strife. He hadn't been in any fair condition to start with which begged the question who in such straights already would fight so desperately for their boy when they were promised life? Was the child so precious? Why?

Bae scrambled back to his father as the moment died down. Hugging him tight as though his Papa were a bulwark against the evil before them, he looked fearfully to has father with the hope he would not be separated.

Finding the captains eyes upon him, the Rumpelstiltskin wasted no time with his supplication. "Please my lady he's my only son." He clasped is hands together. "I'm a cripple. I don't have much in this world. Let me keep my boy."

A look of rumination crossed Belle's fate rues. The words sank in like the heat from above. "You love your son?"

"Dearly," replied the spinner. "I would do anything for him. Name your price whatever you ask I swear somehow I shall do whatever you wish." She could have asked him to destroy the nine moons and he would have tried. Anything to save his son.

Belle nodded slightly, her lips cast into a sly smile. "Anything?"

"Anything," he swore with an eager nod.

Her smiled grew wider. "I see." Turning to another woman, a red head she inquired, "Ariel how many crew did we lose?"

"We got off lucky, captain," Ariel explained lightly, her lips curved into a distasteful line. "Four dead."

Belle arched a brow "One was Cooks assistant correct?"

The red head nodded without words.

Satisfied, the captain turned back to face the spinner. Her blue eyes stared thoughtfully into his muddy brown orbs. They were plain, just as he, but there was a bit of a feeling about him. She knew not what the feeling meant but she had always learned to go with her gut.

"Well Cook will need a new assistant and I can't have a man who owes me a debt just gallivanting off through the realms. I need him close by to call upon his debt. The old assistant was a lay-a-bout anyway so I suppose a cripple won't be any worse." As though finished with them, she turned to Jefferson instead of the hot head Gaston. "Jefferson please takes them to the ship and make sure they're well guarded until we return." With that she busied off to another task that came along with a raid.

Gleefully, the off kilter Jefferson smiled at the shaken pair as though they were old friends. Hauling them to their feet, he wedged himself betwixt them. An arm over each shoulder of father and son, he ferried them slowly to their destination. "Come along new shipmates. There's quite a distance to the sea and your new home, _The Forgotten Rose_!"


	2. The Forgotten Rose!

Hot summer sun stood midway in the bright azure sky by the time the trio arrived to some barren destination hedged by the endless ocean. Away from the billowing smoke the barren blue sky looked as wide and as wild as the ocean below. Not a cloud scudded by and the sun judged down with a heated eye that let nothing walked unscathed under the unblinking orb.

Greenish gray water twinkled merrily in the sunlight, the rays dancing like liquid diamonds spotted in a veil of teal. Seabird wheeled and cried overhead or dipped happily through the waters to catch their meals.

The land before them, or what could be ascertained by their untrained eyes, was mostly rocky shore. The light gray inlet stretched on for miles with nothing but inhospitable gray stones both large and small. Pebbled shoreline and coarse rocks all lined the inlet where the man, Jefferson, stole them to. Far apart from the nearest proper city, the place they came was a barren tract of land more desolate that even the cruelest pirates heart.

Fear rose gorge in Rumpelstiltskin heart at the complete nothingness of the place. His eyes narrowed to ward off the glare of the sun as they roved over the rocky terrain that boasted not even a weed of life through the pebbly cracks.

Confusion raced madly through his thoughts, why had they been brought there? Where was the vessel that the woman commanded they be ferried to?

"Oh don't worry my friend." Jefferson slapped the spinner lightly upon the back, making the cripple lurch forward over the desolate rocks. His eyes searched the captive as though he could pluck the worried thoughts from the currents of his mind. "The ship's there alright." He gave the spinner a conspiratorial wink. "Just very well hidden to prying eyes that would give our landing away."

Rumpel dipped his head fearfully. "Begging you pardon but I don't see anything for miles." Part of him suspected the entire thing a trap. Perhaps the man had come to toss them into the ocean in spite of his mistress' commands or worse. For who knew what lay in the heart of a murderous pirate?

Cunning smile perched upon his thin lips, the hatter tapped a finger slyly to his nose. "Watch" Cupping a hand to his mouth, he inhaled and yelled luridly out to the rocky shore. "Robin, Little John, come on out, we need passage back to the ship! Captain's orders!"

Immediately the rocky shore seemed to scuttle to life that had not been there before. What once looked to be large lumpy rocks began to struggle and twist with power that should not have been. The largest of the rocks seemed to rise as though they were enchanted with legs and suddenly a hand shot through the air to take off a hood.

One by one the "rocks" turned about to reveal men clad in the clever guise of charcoal gray cloaks. Each man held a blade and in the cluster of them a rock that now looked suspiciously like a dingy was turned over.

Happily, Jefferson nudged the spinner with his elbow. "See. Just because you don't see something doesn't mean it's not there." Prodding father and son, along, the pirate spoke with a familiar ease to his fellows. "Friends I'd like you to meet two of our new crew," he introduced as they came forward. Laying a well worn hand firmly upon Balefire's shoulder, he shoved the boy forward to the scattering of lookouts. "Our cabin boy." Lighter he pushed the spinner to keep him from toppling unto the merciless rocks. "And Cook's new assistant. Captain wants them aboard and secure."

Looking from father to son, the one called Robin nodded briskly. "Right. Come along gentlemen." He motioned to the boat that was already put on the waters by the hulking "little" John.

Struggling with his crutch along the rock dotted shore, Rumpel nodded thankfully and obeyed without question. He had only one meeting with corsairs before these pirates that had come to ransack and pillage but he knew not to test their tempers straggling along or pique their ire with indolence and lagging to obey.

His body looked akin to a stork trying to wade through muck as he picked his way to the dingy across the rocky bank. His injury made nothing easy and he wondered would that be too great a hindrance in some aspects. Once inside the rough craft, he slipped into a bench and sat still looking out to the waters.

After Bae was settled and so were the rowers the party hauled off into the endless main. Though there was nothing before them the rowed at a steady pace as thought some vessel laid plain their before their eyes.

The sun seemed to gleam brighter out upon the waters as the small party made way further out. The oars splashed almost soundlessly over the chopping teal waves and the only sounds that remained were the grunts of men heaving to bend the oars under the lash of the heat.

"Well now since we're all here introductions should be made." The ever pleasant Jefferson slapped his knee and cast his glance about the two dour prisoners and the silent pirates. Lifting his hat, the mad man grinned crazily at the pair. "The name's Jefferson but people mostly call me the Mad Hatter," he stated lightly then motioned to the rowing men. "Here is Robin Hood and Little John."

"Well met," Robin paid politely to the two with a faint nod of his head. Kindness echoed through his words and despite their quandary, Rumpel looked up to eye the man called Robin Hood.

His gaze searched the man at the oar warily. The men seemed not to be the type of souls who would torture a helpless prisoner. If their greeting was anything to go by they at least had some sliver of manners.

With that hint of a response from the flighty spinner, Robin nudged his head to them. "Your names?"

"Papa always said we shouldn't talk to criminals," Bae returned bravely defiant to Robin. Shaggy brown head high, he seemed unafraid now amidst the pirates.

He had been ashamed of his terror that had gripped him so soundly back on land but as the smoke and the fear that had swarmed the village had died down, he swore he would not be a coward. He would not fall into that same fear again. He would be brave.

Terror seized the spinner at the most inopportune words that spat from his boy. Clutching his son's shoulder fearfully he shook his head. "Son!" he hissed vehemently fervent, his voice rife with panic from words so foolishly spoken.

That could have gotten them executed said to the wrong man! These were pirates, dark souls that would kill a man for less than his son had spoken.

His brown orbs searched his boy as though he had gone mad before he jerked his head back to Jefferson and the rowers. "I'm sorry he's just a boy, always saying things," Rumpel returned quickly, his tongue stammering and stumbling fearfully. "I'm Rumpelstiltskin and this is my boy Baelfire."

"Your Baelfire has gumption," Robin laughed lightly, his mouth split into a grin. If he was at all offended by the lad's brazen reticence he never let his ire show towards father or son.

"Let's hope that spirit fares our little 'Fire well," Jefferson added lightly taking off the first portion of Bae's name. As the words left his mouth the boats prow knocked lightly into something unseen.

The bodies stuffed in the dingy lurched forward as the boat came to a stop and bobbed pleasantly in the lapping waters.

Without a hint of surprise, Jefferson stood in the rocking boat. Adjusting his hat, he smoothed out his coat in a businesslike manner. "Here we are." He maneuvered to the prow. His hands seemed to pat the air as though he sought something that wasn't there, then, to Rumpelstiltskin's amazement, produced a rope ladder that looked tied to nothing from thin air. Looking back at them victoriously, he placed a boot on the bottom cord of the ladder. "Climb aboard gentlemen!"

Confused, father and son looked towards each other as though one of them could have possibly explained the meaning of ropes that appeared through thin air.

Hearty, warm laughter rang out far over the ocean form the pirates in the gray dingy. All eyes settled upon the captured pair's complete, unadulterated confusion with cheery amusement of men who had not such cause to laugh in a very long time. They always did enjoy the faces wrought with confusion when they first climbed aboard.

"Well?" Jefferson asked good-naturedly. Little laughter escaping his ever smiling lips he turned and hauled himself up. His body began to shimmer as though he were put under water. His coat and flesh began to become translucent in the hot rays of the blistering sun and in a few moments he had all put disappeared before their very eyes.

Vapidly, the spinner turned to the grinning Robin. "M-magic?" he warily dared a guess. That was the only solution that had to be correct unless there was another sort of trickery.

"Very observant my friend." Robin nodded and stood up himself. Maneuvering himself to the invisible ladder, he found the cords with ease and began to haul himself up. "A temporary invisibility field. Just one of the things our captain keeps at her disposal."

Of course she didn't use the enchantment all that often for the magic oft took weeks upon weeks to recharge itself but with a land raid she never took chances of letting her ship be spotted.

Turning back to face the wary captors, he motioned a hand to them. "Well come on, best not keep the boat here. The captain will be cross if we're not there when she is and she's made to wait too long on the shore."

The thought of the captain angered in anyway poked fear directly into the depths of Rumpelstiltskin heart. Aided by the threat, he stumbled and lagged through the boat to reach the rope ladder.

"Just hold unto the ladder," grunted Jefferson from some unknown place. "We'll hoist you up."

Quickly tucking his staff under his arm, the cripple held on tight. His rough fingers curled in a death grip about the roughly woven rope. Closing his eyes tight he clutched for dear life as the roped began to be hauled upwards to where he knew not.

In but moments he felt hard hands grabbing the back of his tunic and dragging him upon deck.

Rumpel landed in a pitiful heap upon the deck of _The Forgotten Rose_. Peking open an eye, he found himself inside the invisible enchantment to see that ship that had not been there and yet was.

_The Forgotten Rose _was a large Caravel crafted by some long ago master shipbuilder. Three masts shot up high to the ever blue sky ready to let fall their burdens of white sails that were currently bundled tight. The deck was littered with coils of rough rope and old tin pails and mops sat forgotten in corners. The crew was a rough looking one, men and women alike who would rather cut a crimson smile across his throat than bid him a well met on even the most pleasant of days.

The sound of his boy climbing over the rail broke the spell the ship held over him as he watched the pirates watching him. Scrambling as best he could to his feet, he swayed under the steady rocking of the ship. As his son appeared, he grabbed Bae close and hugged him and his crutch as they stood amidst those that had long lived upon their now new home.

"Welcome aboard gentlemen," Jefferson greeted, the only smile amidst the filthy faces of murderers. Motioning to a grate with a wooden ladder leading down, he doffed his hat and gave a little bow in some mockery of a loyal servant. "Come right this way. The captain wants you locked up soundly and watched until she returns."

A brig, Rumpel thought frighteningly as they followed the mad haberdasher. They, he feared, would be stuffed into some grimy prison until hopefully the captain remembered they were there and decided upon their egregious fate.

The thoughts of a cramped cage were forgotten as the hatter motioned down the ladder and Rumpel peered inside. Rough dim light filtered through from the sun revealing not a prison but the sleeping arrangements of the crew.

Struggling down, crutch and all, the spinner managed to scale down the ladder with his son following and Jefferson coming up last. His eyes squinted into thin slits as they readjusted to the grim darkness. Gray slants of light filtered in from a few grimy portholes that were gouged out on each side of the ship, but little else came for luminance.

Corded or simply ragged hammocks were strung upon every place they could in the sleeping hold. The entire below looked akin to a mishmash of sloping and swooping spider's nests dyed all colors.

"Here we are." Jefferson landed lightly and ambled to a large black, iron riveted chest in the back of the space. Bringing out two tightly bound spare hammocks he threw them to the pair. "While we're down here you two can set up. I'll try to help you both as best I can seeing as you two aren't ship worthy yet."

Nodding thanks as he clutched the faded red hammock close, the spinner licked his lip, daring courage to speak. "Jefferson, why aren't we…?"

"In the brig?" he concluded easily. Hopping into his own hammock the hatter eased down into his nest. One knee up, one leg swinging over the tarp like fabric, he pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes and swung lazily upon the poorly rigged swing. "Captain Belle's got rules about that. People only go to the brig if they're to be killed or there is no more room for hostages in her cabins."

Ice flowed frigidly into Rumpel's heart at the scrap of new information. The brig, apparently, was not a place they wished to go by any means. If that place meant death then they would have to avoid the lock-up at all costs.

Slowly unfolding his hammock to try and sling the fabric up, the spinner hoped to pry and question the hatter for more precious pearls of information that could potentially make their lives easier on board, or even, though he barely dared think of such, provide an escape.

Trying to spy any rings in the hammock edges, wherever they were, he spoke as he worked. "I thank you for the news Jefferson," he amended gratefully, the words true but set for a different purpose he could sue for an advantage. "You seem a good sort. Are there any on the ship we should best not mind?"

A suddenly bark of laughter shot from the hatter's lips. The noise rang out drearily through the creaking darkness. "That's about everyone here," he sobered into a scattering of low chuckles, "But there are a few crew here you should pay extra attention and would do well to bide. They're Captain Belle's trusted." He placed his fingertips to his chest. "I would be one," he announced proudly then fell back into an easy chatter, "Gaston, the one who tried to swipe your head off would be another, Robin, and Ariel and of course Cook. We've been with her the longest and she trusts us all." His voice suddenly grew serious. "With good reasons, friends. We are her eyes and ears in everything aboard this ship."

Though he did not say more the words spoke for themselves. He would not allow them to try and formulate some plan against their captain. What the captain said went as law and they had best grow used to the life placed out before them.

"Gaston, Robin, Ariel, Jefferson, Cook," Rumpel muttered the names beneath his breath to dictate them to his memory. They could potentially be friends he need to make or enemies he needed to avoid.

After a long while had been whiled away and he and Baelfire had managed to sling up their hammocks, the hatter slid from his berth. Tipping his hat, he eyed the two over. "Well my friends this is home. As bad as you might think of the place, this is how your life stands now. I'll be back to fetch you when the captain comes on board. No doubt she'll want words with you both. I'd have a bit of rest if I was you. Take time to… mourn or meditate upon what you've lost. Around here you won't have much time for any of that."

With that said, the mad hatter turned and made his way out of the sleeping quarters. His steps upon the filthy wooden ladder echoed dully through the dark competent before he gently shut the grate above leaving the two locked below.

Alone now in the cool of the smelling, grimy sleeping quarter, both father and son had a moment to let the day wind back in replay in their heads. Like some horrid dream they fell back to the terrors of the day that had bound them into such a surreal fate. So much had irreversibly changed in so little a time.

Hobbling to one of the dirty portholes, the spinner wiped the glass with a ragged sleeve. Greasy soot smeared upon the glass doing little to clean the smoke and brine grimed panes, but just squinting he could make out the line of land they had left behind.

Home laid somewhere in greasy char and rubble and yet strangely he felt but a small pang in his chest. That place had never felt like a home. He had been left there when he was but a child but that village had not been _home_.

Perhaps someday, he reckoned wisely, he would sigh and look out over the glittering waters and miss the comfortable mornings of walking out of his hovel and slowly herding his small flock or even coming down the old dirt lanes, but at the moment he only felt warm indifference to the place he had called home all his life.

"Papa," Balefire's voice broke through his contemplation. "What're we going to do?"

A weary, worried sigh wrenched from the spinner and he turned about. "There's nothing we can do, son, we'll just have to make due here. Somehow."

How he did not know but they had to try, their lives depended upon learning skills of the sea now.

"How can you say that?" The growing boy looked upon his father with intent surprise. "They've taken us prisoner. We have to escape them."

Rumpel tossed his head hurriedly and stumble over to his boy, his hands trying to shush him. "Oh no, no, don't… don't even say that word aloud," he warned fearfully as though the pirates had their ears turned to the deck below. They could be flogged or worse if someone had overheard. "We have our lives. We have one another."

"We're slaves," the boy deadpanned, his eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. Was this the same father that had risked his life plowing through the buffeting flames and the noxious smoke to find him? Would he crumple so easily?

The spinner placed a calloused hand on the boy's shoulder. "We're alive," he whispered. "We'll make due, we always have. This time just a bit different."

"Perhaps more different than you think," Jefferson added in from the ladder. Head poking out from the grate he had reopened, his hair dangled in oily black vines as he looked at them from upside-down. "I'm sorry to break up this chat but the captain is on her way." He smiled roguishly. "The time has come to meet Captain Belle face to face."


	3. Captain Belle

Belle had been itching to meet her prisoners. Curiosity, her one rare weakness, had been infiltrated by this man and plucked a knowing cord in her. Rarely did she capture souls, much less have them work for her, but they were different.

Since the moment she had ordered them with Jefferson to the ship, the thoughts of them had not fled her mind. The crippled man had been interesting enough to make her stop and think of him for a long while. He was frightened, reserved, and yet willing to put his life in harms way for his boy. Such courage, or slivers of such, did not often appear so blatantly to her sight.

She had seen heroes, plenty of them, and men and women fight for their homes, but she had never seen someone who looked so timid and wane arise in such a moment where his life could have been forfeit. Her mind had tried to piece together what made the man, but alas she had had too little in which to figure him.

That was, until she came back aboard her beloved boat.

Belle's startlingly blue eyes scanned over boy and man as they stood in her cabin. . Her quarters, unlike the cramped, filthy compartments of the crew, was a grand thing worthy of any corsair. Lockers and chests wrought with gold and wardrobes all nailed down lined the walls. A fine, double bed quilted with fine red cotton sat directly beneath a thick leaded window and a desk carved from a rare dark tree sat center in her cabin.

The entire room was piled and wrought with riches but not ostentatiously so. Belle knew how to display her wealth and the best of her plunder in a way which made men marvel not think her some gaudy wench with a boat.

Leaning back in her chair, her fingers fiddled aimlessly, she quietly eyed them over for a third and a fourth time. She was always the thorough sort, never one to move into action without observing all facets of a thing. She paid no mind to Gaston who stood a hulking figure behind them as their guards. No, this moment was to espy them alone. Gaston she knew, but these two were a mystery.

Now that they were out the fire, the boy seemed braver than his father, she noted confidently. The shaggy brown-haired lad kept his head up. He met her azure orbs bravely brazen while the man kept his head bent unable to keep her gaze for longer than a breath. If their eyes did happen to meet he quickly averted his own in terror.

Finally after a handful of minutes in complete silence, the captain sat straight again. Briskly she plucked up a golden gryphon quill from an iron ink pot and faced a barren piece of vellum in a thick ledger before her.

"Your names please," she ordered insouciantly. "I need them for the log."

She always had kept a tight ship. Nothing ever went undocumented under her crisp blue eyes. From every contraband ridden cargo and stolen good they plundered, down to even the very last crumb, they were all neatly written in her flourished script in sea smelling, leather bounded ledgers.

"Baelfire." The lad tilted his chin proudly. His eyes gleamed like his name.

She nodded as the quill scratched along the vellum. "Baelfire." She studiously flickered her gaze to the cripple for a moment before writing down some unknown details. "And you?"

The spinner licked his dry lips nervously. "Rumpelstiltskin, my lady." He bobbed his head quickly.

Eyes strafing to him again, the beauty stared starkly back up at the cripple. A thoughtful look melded into her stern visage before she turned back to the pages laid her. "I'm not even going to attempt to spell that," she stated flatly without a hint of humor. If she meant to make a jest the attempt was cleverly, cleverly veiled.

Rumpelstiltskin, she rolled the name through her mind. Despite the oddity of the moniker, the name fit him somehow. An odd name for an odd man.

"O-others simply call me Rumpel if that'll help, my lady," he offered nervously.

Immediately a sharp pain blared to life in the back of his head. Stars of black popped like fireworks in his vision as a hand struck him from behind. Clutching the back of his skull, he turned to the man behind him.

The hulking Gaston stared murderously at the cripple. Crossing his arms contentiously, he stared daggers at the spinner whose life he was robbed from taking. "You will speak when spoken to in the presence of the captain," he snarled venomously.

"Also you will addressed me as captain," she instructed and looked back up to father and son. "Both of you." Once more leaning in her chair she scanned them both again. "Now that that's done tell me, Rumpel, what did you do on land?"

Not daring to rub the coming lump slowly rising on the back of his skull the cripple swallowed audibly and cast his head down again to look at the end of his knobby crutch. "I was a spinner my lady. I had a few sheep and spun wool to sell at market and make our clothes."

His craft hadn't been much, but they had managed to survive.

"Ha! He did woman's work!" Gaston bellowed in cruel amusement. He had found something to lash the cripple with and handled the kernel of information like a whip. "Is that what we brought upon this ship, a lady in waiting?"

Dark fire banked in Rumpel's cheeks at the cruel taunt. The tips of his ears blazed scarlet with shame. Yes the work was "woman's work" but that was all he knew and mostly what he could do. The spinsters who had reared him were not exactly brutish men who could teach him how to reap fields and the like.

Ignoring the brute, Belle kept her eyes locked upon the spinner. "Continue. What can you do with such skills?" If she shared in Gaston's cruel enjoyment, she never let the emotion show.

She seemed so much the cold, impenetrable wall that no emotion strongly touched her. Neither humor nor kindness nor cruelty affected her, but only in the rarest of evil moments.

"I…I can sew and mend every fabric you could name." His voice dropped shamefully. "I couldn't do much else."

Bae had been teased mercilessly by children with the mentality like Gaston who thought his father could do not but woman's work. He had carried that shame on land and now perhaps both of them had to tout the cruelty upon the seas as well.

"Luck was on my side I see today," Belle stated punctiliously as though explaining bare facts. "None of my crew have the ability to sew. They'd probably poke to themselves to death with the needles. We've been in great need for someone with the skill to mend sails and even flesh when a needle calls for medicinal powers." She smiled thinly. "Your uses have doubled already."

Though she was not always the first for doling out encouragement or a ghostly hint of a compliment, her ire became pricked at the cruel taunts of Gaston. Work was work and if he did a fine job of his craft so much the better.

Surprise marbled Rumpel's visage at the hopeful, helpful words that she wrought. He had never been commended for his ability before, much less told his skill was a great need. Even if she did sound like the matter was of no great importance her words struck him odd.

"Also," she added uncaringly to Gaston, "Did I address you? You may be boson, Gaston but you follow the rules of everyone here." She flickered her eyes to Rumpel. "I do not show favor. What goes for one goes for all. Though you are my prisoners you will be treated mostly the same as the rest of my men."

Leaning back once more, she placed the tips of her fingers under her chin and stared at them again. "As things stand however, here will be your duties. Baelfire you're our cabin boy, you must be quick to fetch the things that our crew require. At times everyone is far too busy to go collect the small things that slip a bodies mind when they're all trying to get _The Forgotten Rose_ going at full. You must obey imperatively and without question. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Bae replied stiffly. Had he not thought of his father he would perhaps have been defiant but who knew if the woman would turn her wrath on his Papa. No, he considered, better to stay his rebellion until a proper time.

A small smile tilted his lush lips. "Excellent," she intoned softly and motioned to Gaston. "Gaston please take our Baelfire here and show him around. Give him a thorough rundown of things that have to be done."

"Come along, boy," the brute grunted and tugged at Bae's fire eaten sleeve. "You'll learn fast or the captain will have your skin for a new coat!"

An ashen pall swept across Rumpel's face for a moment from the cruel taunt from the ever rough Gaston. Leaning heavily on his crutch he moved to follow the pair.

"Where are you headed?" Her dry tone stopped the cripple stiffly in his tracks.

Nervously, the spinner turned back to face her. Wariness gleamed in his brown depths before he averted his gaze once more to the stolen finery. His head dipped low as he pointed a hand to the way of the door. "I was… I thought."

"You're work does not coincide with your sons," she reveled crisply. "Less you forget you're Cook's new assistant which unequivocally requires an entirely different string of chores and tasks."

Nodding vapidly the poor spinner looked on anxiously. He opened his mouth the pose a query but remembering the knot forming on the back of his skull sealed his lips once more. She hadn't motioned or encouraged Gaston to hit him but nor had she chastised him either.

A rather tame grin arose upon Belle's lips, her eyes never missing a movement from the cripple. He was a fast learner if nothing else.

A quick rap on the door broke through the silence of the captain and her prisoner. Before she could even bid the body enter the door creaked opened and a sizably plump man wedged his bulk through the portal.

Clad in an apron that had once possibly been white but was now a dull brown and burgundy from too many years of fish guts, brine, and blood splatters, the man wore the vestment as proudly as any warrior would have worn a badge of honor. Rotund like a barrel the man's girth was huge. His arms were as large clubs and covered with grease scars that mottled and painted bald spots through what was left of the ample hair on his appendages. His face was as ugly and as wrinkled as a leather sack left for years in the sun, but there were laugh lines and crows feet hewn aplenty with merriment upon his visage. His hair was matted and black and hung thick over his bushy brows. Nothing else was special about him but the wooden peg that was used in place of a left leg.

"So this be the new assistant, aye?" his tawdry seafarers accent jovially boomed through the captain's quarters.

Tarnished silver platter in his left hand, he squeezed his hefty body inside and stood to the left of the wary Rumpel.

A large grin Belle couldn't contain weaseled upon her features. "That he his, Mr. Silver." She dipped her head almost imperceptibly to the cripple. "This is your new lackey, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Well aint that a mouthful, it is." the burly Long John Silver luridly gurgled a laugh. He heartily clapped his free hand to Rumpel's back nearly making him careen forward. "Pleased to meet ya' lad. I hopes you'll be better than the last one I do." As he looked the spindly Rumpel over, his lungs boomed a great laugh as he spotted the injury of the spinner. "Oh ho we will get along grand. Look at it, matching wounds we do! I allus think things that come in pairs to be lucky."

"Mr. Silver you can compare wounds later," Belle interposed simply. Still ever terse and business like, her smile was drawn down to a polite smirk.

Wiping a hand lazily upon his filthy apron, the cook nodded. "Right ye are, cap'n, right ye are. The sun's about the third hour so I brought your cap'n-ship some tea." He winked conspiratorially at the spinner. "Our lovely cap'n here can't abide a day without tea."

As he moved his girth to drop the tray upon the desk, Belle lifted a hand. "No." Her eyes stayed pinioned upon the spinner. "He needs to do this. Serving will be one of his duties after all."

"Oh ho, our heartless beauty of a cap'n already got ye on the job, Rumble bumble or whatever ye ship yourself." Holding the tray out, his eyes glittered with a warning in case the spinner deemed to hesitate. He shouldn't keep the captain waiting.

Intrepidly, the spinner took the tray. Shuffling the few feet to the desk he began to order out what lay on the silver. Sugar bowl, honey, and other supplements for tea all cluttered over the tray. His roughened fingers trembled nervously upon china and glass as he poured the hot tea into a finely made blue and white cup.

Whilst he served, the beauty went on to describe the rest of his duties. "You will serve me my meals, and you will help keep the ship clean and in order. You will mend whatever needs to be mended and do the other little chores that have need of a grown man and not a cabin boy. Do you understand?"

Focused intently on pouring the tea, the spinner nodded to every chore that was given him. His eyes remained stapled to his task. If this was to be his first chore he fain wished to fail.

Once the steaming brew was perfect, just as she finished speaking he lifted the saucer. "I understand," he relayed humbly, to show he had been listening as well.

"Oh." She held up a finger as though a forgotten thought sprang to mind. "And you shall skin the prisoners we take to make new sails."

A jolt of surprise raced like a physical current thought the spinner. His entire body shivered in astonishment. His hands quivered and he watched in horror as the cup tumbled to the finely knitted Agrabah rug under the desk.

A click of ceramic being broken nearly made his heart leap from his chest. Icy water rushed in a deluge through his veins freezing his blood. How could he bungle something so simple? How could she expect him to go along with such an atrocious, horrendous act?

"That one was a quip," Belle reveled wryly, her tone devoid, even then, of humor. "Not serious."

Relief bubbled in an intrepid sigh from the spinner. His heart began to race at a normal tempo wrought from the fear of such tortuous acts. He could believe pirates would try such thing but the statement had given him more than a shock.

As his senses came around, the spinner realized what the surprise had cost him. Looking down, he bent as best he could to collect the cup he had dropped. Dark stains seeped brown pools into the priceless rug and he dreaded the thought of cleaning them up. As he handled the cropped ceramic, he found the cup itself was mostly preserved save for a small chip at the rim.

"Something the matter Rumpel?" Belle inquired, her voice strict and bored. Unconcerned about cup or man she picked up her quill and began to scribble figures once more upon the vellum.

Clutching the cup lightly in his hands, he slowly rose and lifted the trinket for her to see. "It's a… chipped." He licked his lips nervous as though in the face or a murderous animal. "You... you can barely see it. I'm sorry… I really am."

Delicately he laid the vessel upon the tray again with a light clink. His nerves thrilled through his body like glass scraping through his blood. How would she find his blunder? Would she be enraged he could not do that one simple task without failing?

Flickering her sharp gaze to the cup, the beauty shrugged insouciantly. "Don't be foolish," she admonished him in her aloof no-nonsense timbre. "It's just a cup."

"Right," he babbled nervously, his voice hedging with relief.

Pen still moving rapidly upon the parchment she did not even look up to him. "Since you bungled this, I will dismiss you until supper time. You are to find your way to the galley. That will be all."

Was she always so stiff and business like, letting only rare hints of emotion escape her, Rumpel wondered quite unexpectedly. Dashing the incredible thought away, the spinner nodded in acquiescence and turned to limp out.

"I'll be along lad!" Sliver turned and slapped the cripples back once more. Great girth wobbling, he escorted his assistant to the door. His dark eyes watched the spinner until the man had gone out to find the galley.

The door closed with a soft click behind him as he limped off to obey. Once his limping steps were deaf to their ears did Belle and the cook, Silver, move.

Sly smile upon his face, Silver turned from the door and back to Belle. The beauty's quill lay on the vellum forgotten. Instead she handled the cup the spinner had accidentally dropped.

"Ye think he's suited for the quest before us, then?" Long John Silver asked lowly. He arched a bushy brow towards the captain whilst he idly scratched his girth.

Circling the chipped trinket, still warm from the dropped tea, between her palms, she eyed the portal where he had departed. "Perhaps," she acceded thoughtfully. "If, of course, he manages to live long enough for us to get there."


	4. Making Sail

The horrendous stench was the first thing to rock Rumpelstiltskin out of his fears strangling clutches. Intrepidly limping into the galley, his smell was the first sense to adjust. The gut wrenching reek of old fish hung almost noxiously along the stifled, tepid air. The sickly sweet smell of old fruit moldering in barrels over which small dystrophic clouds of gnats clustered, meshed putridly with the rotting scents of other foods long since past their primes.

Steeping into the, somehow, hotter than outside galley, the spinner allowed a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the ships kitchen.

A stove of some sort sat nestled far back into the galley with a dark iron flue rigged helter-skelter by bits of metal rising up and out to a hole in the roof. Atop the fat metal contraption sat a huge cauldron. Some creamy gruel like substance bubbled upon the rim mingling with the last dried on meal crusted around the edges.

Around the rest of the galley stores of potatoes, limes, lemons, apples and all manner of foods sat wedged in barrels or sacks. The long counter at the back wall was crowded with knives, some for cutlery and some for killing along with all manner of cooking implements that ranged from fat pots to skinny filleting knives.

Only a long trench like table and benches made up the last of the furniture in the wide galley but he was dubious by the smell anyone would have chosen willingly to eat in the dim, foul place.

"Oh ho lad I see you found yours bearings to my little kingdom you did." The boisterous Long John Silver lumbered down merrily into the galley. Clapping the spinner heartily on the back once more, he shifted his rotund girth and waddled speedily about the kitchen to tend to some task. "Ah our rose of a cap'n may rule the ship, but this." He plucked up a filthy wooden spoon and held the cutlery like a golden scepter. "This, lad is old Silver's domain here."

In his aging, he enjoyed the slowed down pirates life of being a cook. In his ignoble profession, the job of cook was something of a retirement filled with the easy life of serving up slop and hearing no cheek about the matter. He could waste away the day at his leisure if he chose, or be as busy as he minded, which was the perfect job for someone as himself who was never content to fall into one habit so long.

Rumpel nodded mutely, uncertain how to address the garrulous cook. He seemed close to the captain and he didn't want her to hear that he was some sort of rebellious, impudent lackey that didn't know when to remain silent.

Moving about swiftly despite his girth, the cook spoke jovially to the spinner. "'tis your first day on the job so I'll take thing easy on you, lad. You just watch me and then I'll get you to serve the crew. Our cap'n eats only after the crews had their gobs filled and she only takes her meals in her cabin, mind ye. You'll have to mind yer manners in there and try not to drop anymore of her china."

Working as he spoke, he plundered a large fish from a barrel of salt and slapped the large fish down upon the counter. Taking down a long, dirty butcher's knife from a hook, the cook wielded the weapon with an expert hand. The blade gleamed murderously in the dullness of the compartment as he twirled the wooden handled easily betwixt his pudgy, scarred fingers.

Eyes entranced upon the blade, Silver sighed wistfully. " Ah me I didn't think I'd see this day for a few more years yet. Havin' a new assistant makes a body think about the past. I still recall the first assistant, bless her. Things be changing even in this little ship of ours." His voice drifted thoughtfully as he absently toyed with the knife. "Ah so much change. I used to be a master with the blade in me prime before I became a cook. I could fillet a man alive," he reveled almost whimsically, as any old man would do whilst thinking back on his younger years.

Abruptly he swung the knife down upon the fish. The keen blade sank hard with a heavy thump into the counters wood like a gavel.

Rumpelstiltskin jumped timidly at the sudden, sure strike. His eyes locked unto the fish with the head so neatly severed from the rest of the silvery scales. He had no doubt the words were a threat as well as any quaint chat or outward nostalgia.

Rumpel may be his assistant but he was also a prisoner and if he dared tried to ply any mischief, to conspire against the crew, or the captain there would be a long, arduous torment upon his head. Above all, Silver wished him to know he was no dunce. He could still be a ruthless killer if the need arose to handle his new assistant as such. He had governed many assistance before and knew their ticks.

"So you know how to wield any weapons, Rumble bumble, or whatever ye name is?" Silvers asked lightly, his tone carefree and jovial once more now that his message was across.

The spinner tossed his head. "No sir. Not well." He had wielded a blade in the army against the ogres once but even then his aim had not been accurate.

"Mores the pity," the garrulous Silver grunted as he filleted the fish. "But that's not a thing too terrible. We're not the kind to fight no way. Our crew needs to eat." With that, he motioned the blade to a dirty pot. "Hand me the pot will ye, the boys like a good piece of fish with their supper."

Scurrying to obey, the spinner tried to broach more conversation. "Do you always get supper ready so early?" Though the day was a little past three, they still had a few more hours till eating if they did things the same way as those on land.

"The boys need a hearty meal after gettin' _The Forgotten Rose _through the water." He rapped his knuckles against the wall. "This fine lassies is fast as the wind but she needs a good bit of work to get up and running." His eyes twinkled dreamily. "Ah but once she is, lad, she's a dancer on the waters." Silver added a few dried spices to the pot and set to working his nautical cooing skills. "And besides, the cap'n's not found of waiting, mind ye, she likes to leave as soon as possible after she's done with a place. So they'll be working on the double."

As if on cue the strong voice of the captain rang throughout the ship. Her melodious voice, so strange with the accent seemed to float over the waters. Even without seeing her, her voice mirrored her smooth, emotionless face with the business like timbre of her no-nonsense tone. "All hands to deck we're shipping out!"

Turning to the door, the spinner watched curiously as shadows passed the threshold. The stamp of bare feet was audible even from their berth. Ropes creaked and shouts rose up of people communicating from outside. He had never seen a ship make sail before and curiosity burned bright coals inside him.

A knowing chuckle fled from Silver's lips. "If you've never seen a boat like this get underway you're in for a real treat." He nudged his head to the door. "Go out by the door and see. 'tis a grand sight to behold."

Taken aback by the offer, the cripple gave a small nod. "I'll be only a moment," he promised and limped to the door.

Sticking to the side of the stairs that back up on deck, the spinner scaled a few of the steps. Careful not to make himself a nuisance or find himself in the way of the busy crew, he peeked out in the blazing sunshine. His eyes widened at the flurry of activity before him.

Everywhere sun leathered bodies moved like ants with their feet afire. Ropes hung akin to dangling entrails or like vines being pulled taunt. Pirates scaled the riggings like possessed monkey whilst a few of the strong ones brought up the anchor chain.

Bae stood in a corner not yet allowed to be in the mix and get in their way. Under the hot sun, he too watched with awe.

Rumpel eyed the boy fondly, his fatherly instincts proud that his son was keeping his head. Moving on from his son with the novel sight, his gaze still searched the wonderment of the ship coming to life with the blood of the crew. His eyes scanned the masts and decks and ropes and then… all the deities bless him, and then he saw the captain.

Standing at the large wheel, she stood straight and proud. Her light amber hair fluttered wildly behind her like a pennant of war. Her captain's coat snapped and stirred briskly in the wind. She looked every inch the fierce pirate captain and Rumpel could not help but stare in wonderment of her and only her.

She remained silent, mostly, letting her crew work for they knew their business and she knew they were efficient. Her gaze scanned them all, making certain every job was done thoroughly.

Only her eyes flickered upward as a last shout rang out and the sails plummeted to garb the barren skeletons of the masts. Off white sheets flowed down from the top of the masts like flags unrolled for a celebration. The sails plumed grandiosely as their waterproof fabrics filled with the wind.

Once everything was secure a small smile tipped her lips. _The Forgotten Rose _was ready to flee across the waters.

As they began to move, she inclined her face to the wind. The sun shone off her creamy skin as she enjoyed the wind and sun and the very puerile delight of sailing. She looked in her element and Rumpel could have watched her forever.

"A sight to see indeed." Silver limped to Rumpel's side and placed a bloody hand on his shoulder.

Eyes pinioned upon the beauty, the spinner could only nod in agreement, his tongue too bound with awe.

After long moments, Rumpel managed to tear his eyes away from the spectacle. He shook his head as though casting off a strange enchantment that fettered his mind. "Should we be getting ready to serve now? The captains seems like she likes things…." He searched for the word. "Prompt."

"For the crew we'll get their slop together." Silver nodded and retreated back into the dimness like a bear returning to his cave. "Knowing the cap'n, the sun will have already sunk by the time she wants her meal. She'll stand at that wheel for hours, she will, guiding us where she pleases."

Confusion knit the spinners brow in thin lines. "Why?" he queried unexpectedly. Didn't she have her hulk of a boson for that?

"Who knows," Silver chuckled and heaved his shoulders indolently. "Our cap'n's a strange one. Effective but strange; and I'm gladder for that. I tell ye, times would be sad indeed for a pirate if'n that dark genius of hers won't on our side."

The answer only brought more questions buzzing through Rumpel's already whirling mind, but the spinner accepted the reply without another inquiry. He scarcely wished to irk Silver. Still….

Looking back through the open galley doors, he stared at the golden bars of sunshine that danced on the steps and wondered about the captain of _The Forgotten Rose_.

~8~8~

True to Silver's word the captain had not asked for supper until the sun had long been down. The crew had eaten two hearty meals since they had gotten their ship underway through the rough waters. The day had been long and once the ship was settled they relaxed under the stars for a job well done.

Their captain, however, had afforded herself no such rest and only after the crew had turned in to their foul nests did she leave the wheel to her boson and make way to her cabin.

Rumpel had been asleep in the corner of the kitchen after trying his hand at making bread when the cook moved to awaken him. The wait to serve her had been too long and his reserves of strength to small to keep awake. He had dozed in the warmth of kitchen, lulled by the rocking of the ship and the rare fresh breezes that slipped through the doors to drive out the stench.

Frightened or not, fatigue was fatigue and he had slipped into a comfortable slumber that he had rarely known even on land.

Large smile upon his lips, Silver looked down upon the sleeping figure and poked the spinner in the belly with the end of a spoon. A mighty laugh shook the one legged pirate. "Rise and shine lad, the captain calls."

A hint of confusion crossed the spinner's sleeping face before the voice and his situation came sharply back to his mind. In his sleep he had forgotten he was a prisoner, but the merry voice of Silver brought the nightmarish fact back all too clearly.

Stalwartly, Rumpelstiltskin shook off his sleepiness. Even groggy he knew better than keep anyone waiting. Roughly scrubbing his face with flour stained hands he nodded and had just managed to stand up before the cook shoved a tray at him.

"Best not keep her waiting, Rumble bumble." He slapped him lightly on the shoulder so he would not tip the tray. "Once the tasks done you can go down to your bunk and rest. I can't have me a sleepy assistant tomorrow!"

Nodding his thanks for the dismissal after his last chore, Rumpel worked his way towards the cabin. His mangled leg was a set back but he managed with the tray in one hand and his crutch clutched tight in the other.

Free from the confines of the galley, the spinner let the night spill over him. The dark outside world was beautiful though he dared only to look up once or twice in order not to spill his tray. Stars danced merrily in their own black sea above. The Milky Way looked akin the currents that mazed the seas below and he wondered if any beings sailed the dark firmament above.

In the darkness, the spinner felt his wariness shed like the heat of the day. The feeling only lasted for a heartbeat before he came to her door. Warily knocking he took a step back as though a tiger would leap out.

"Enter," her neutral voice bade tersely.

Taking a deep breath, Rumpel bolstered his courage, or what scraps he had, and entered. Whatever would come upon him couldn't have been worse than if he had just stood frozen at the door to leave her waiting.

The large cabin glowed dimly with soft ruddy candles to repel the darkness as he stepped inside. The dimness of the lights reflected upon speckles of the golden treasures she had hung up in her quarters adding a hint more luminance to the darkness.

Sitting at her desk once more, Belle had quill and vellum at the ready as she always seemed to have. Looking up to him quickly, she motioned the end of the quill to a free space upon the desk before turning her attention to write once more. "There if you please. I like two sugars in my tea."

"Yes, my la-… captain," he corrected quickly and scurried to do her bidding.

Cutlery and china clinked softly as he busied himself setting out her tea and the meal the cook had prepared especially for her. Silver had arrayed a far better meal than what the crew ate and the entire mass of fish, rice, and pears seemed fit for a king.

Once the task was done, he took a step back. His hands clasped before him he looked at her anxiously as though he were prepared for her to snap at him for something he had done wrong.

For long moments the beauty's seemed to not even recognize his existence. Her quill scribbled rapidly, racing over the clean pages with nautical numbers and lengths and all manner of information to detail a log.

Once she was done, Belle deposited her quill in the pot and took up her cup. Leaning back in her chair, her cyan eyes found the spinner again. "Quite a different day for you, I suppose." She lightly sipped the lukewarm tea.

For the first time, truly they were alone without Cook barging in or any other disturbances and she was inordinately eager to bandy words with him again. She could finally speak with him privately, screening him in her own way.

Nodding, the spinner remained silent, uncertain if he was allowed to speak.

Flicking a hand indolently his way, she nursed the warmth of the cup between her ink stained palms. "You have my leave to speak, spinner," she paused a moment. "But choose your words carefully."

She wanted him to say something, he knew, his heart filling with bile and fear, but what exactly could he say that wouldn't come off as hateful or could be construed as want of revenge or even a lie? He could not say he was glad or even relieved. To tell the truth would speak of the anger and hatred in his heart.

"We have our lives, captain," he replied softly, his voice a frightened murmur. "That's all that matters. I have my son and we both live."

At least, he figured inwardly, that was not a lie, nor did he give away a terrible truth.

Belle nodded approvingly. "Wisely spoken, spinner. I don't allow dissent or liars aboard my ship, even prisoners." Holding the steaming cup close, she ruminated upon the man. His words were certainly carefully chosen. "You're a cautious thing aren't you?"

"As you say, captain," he replied humbly though with a low hint of wit. Cowardly was the better word to fit, but he dared not try to demean himself before her to look like he was trying to suck up or correct her error.

A ghost of a smile haunted the furthest corners of her mouth. She could appreciate a good opening for something clever when the rare moment arose. "Keep that caution, Rumpel." She laid her cup down. "That instinct will serve you well aboard my ship."

Before he could say anything, even if he aimed to, she plucked up her pen again and flourished a hand carelessly in his direction. "Off with you now. I suspect after the day you've had you'd like to get as much sleep as you can. No doubt Mr. Silver will run you ragged tomorrow."

"Yes, captain. Thank you. Good night, " he voiced and made a stiff bow.

Abruptly, her head shot up as though he had spat at her. A flash of emotion strangely crossed her face like a phantom. The change was so quick, Rumpel could barely believe he had seen the shift upon her silken skin.

And just as he breathed, the look was gone.

"What did you say?" she asked in her strictest neutrality.

Rumpel licked his lips nervously. Had he blundered? How? "Good night and thank you for letting me go to my hammock," he clarified softly and jerked a thumb warily to the door. Just because he was a prisoner did not mean he could not be polite. He had manners, and what was more, he did not wish to seem ill mannered to the captain.

A flicker of realization twinkled in her eyes. "Oh." The word hung like an uncertain answer. "Manners are not something... common here. Especially since you are a captured prisoner. Courtesy is not a thing pirates are renowned for, nor do they receive such from their captives."

"Never hurts to be pleasant." He shrugged nervously.

Silence encapsulated them for a heartbeat. A certain yet uncertain thought seemed to have been snatched out of the air betwixt them. Neither could directly identify the notion but there had been something.

Shaking her head lightly, Belle was forced to agree. "No," thoughtfulness laced her voice, her eyes locked upon something faraway in the crags of her tactile mind. "I suppose that it doesn't." Breaking the spell of contemplation she turned her gaze back to him, her face the eternal sternness of a strict ships captain. "You were leaving, Rumpel," she stated, an order rather than a question.

"Yes, yes… good night again captain," he bade nervously and slipped out of the cabin to gratefully find his hammock.

Only the vibrating thrumming ropes of the taunt rigging and the creak of boards brought noise to the room as Belle sat all alone. Staring thoughtfully at the place the cripple had just been, a sigh dourly crossed her lips.

Regally rising from her desk, she left her meal untouched. Half gliding to the door, she unhooked her warm sea coat from a peg by the portal and donned the garment tightly about her.

Thoughts that were strange and curious assailed her mercilessly and only one place was suitable for such contemplations - the ships her, hands piloting the ship, she could steer her thoughts as easily as _The Forgotten Rose_. If she chose she could leave them behind upon the wind or fixate upon them like a ship laden with treasure.

Her hands ached to feel the wood of the ships wheel now as the thoughts descended heavily upon her mind. She needed to put her thoughts in order. Food or no food she needed to steer her troubles away.

Troubles, she noted ironically, that came from a prisoner who was no trouble at all.


	5. The Wheel

Days trudged by upon the open seas in sheer monotony for the pirates of _The Forgotten Rose_. For the pelagic killers the hours and days melded insolubly together in open tedium that no amount of games of dice or spirits could quell. One gray-green wave looked like another, the clouds drifted by in endless vapid herds of stray sheep, and even the days seemed to only loop in some drab nightmare. The only change that governed their day was the sun that arched up over the firmament at dawn and down again at the very crepuscular edge of the waters at night.

They bemoaned the days of tedium without spoils to pillage or ships to plunder, but for Rumpel the entire experience was a novelty.

Everyday, though they seemed much the same, brought a new discovery. Despite his mangled leg, he easily fell into his new role and assistant and mender. He and Silver fared well together and he was grateful the man who oversaw him was not cruel by nature. In fact he seemed the exact opposite, something Rumpel had not accounted for with the pirates, for who would expect a pirate to be good hearted?

In his great cheer the one legged cook often slipped Bae extra rations, "for a growin' lad" he would whisper and nudge the spinner like a fellow conspirator. Tips on ship life he handed out freely sparing Rumpel from one disaster after another. He found an ear to bend in Rumpel and the vociferous cook made full use of the ears that had not heard his tales one hundred times before.

Most of the crew besides Cook weren't terrible altogether either, in Rumpel's surprising estimation.

Jefferson was only as cruel as his insanity took him which wasn't so great a distance. The others mostly kept to themselves or talked conspiratorially in their own clique of huddling bodies that brooded over steaming bowls of grub in the evening and morning meals.

They were not ready to accept their prisoners into their ranks, and with thought, Rumpel could nary blame them. To try and fit in would only incur blazing suspicion on himself and any plans of escape he dared tend in his thoughts. However, they seemed to take a liking to Bae. Through his courage towards them they seemed to accept him like a budding pirate with too much gumption for his own good. They were always eager to show him new things and let him try out the roles of those aboard deck.

Yes, both were treated mostly well; Bae warmly, Rumpel with perhaps a bit of coldness but well just the same.

The only one who did seem to take positively ill to him in every possible way was Gaston. Whatever he did Gaston seemed to go out of his way to uncover fault. He bullied and demeaned whenever the chance opened for him to do so. For some reason, perhaps the fact that he had not been able to kill the cripple, he loathed Rumpel. He had decided they were to be enemies and delved into that passion with cruel heart.

And yet, despite them all and the unabashed oddities that infested the ship, the prime curiosity remained Captain Belle. She was an enigma so shrouded by mist he could not divulge any epiphany when he thought of the pirate captain. She ran her ship like she ran her will, full sail with no signs of stopping but sternly, punctiliously kept so that no emotion could be outwardly conveyed.

What was even more curious than her strict emotions was when she governed the wheel.

Her eyes always searched the misty gray horizon but without actually seeing the rim of the waters. Her indigo orbs took upon a thoughtful set that spoke of some inward reprieve that she could never fully reach.

~8~8~

A deep sigh fled Rumpel's lips as he bent his back under the harsh noon sun. His hair, damp with sweat, clung to the sun burnt nape of his neck and glowed a bright brown in the golden rays as he worked. Scummy soap bubbles popped under his hands as he roughly scrubbed the railing at the ships wheel with a thick, stiff brush. A rusted tin bucket filled with salt water once clear, but now a murky gray, sat at his feet.

He had been tasked to scour the entire railing of the ship, and though the work was near intolerable under the merciless heat of midday, his sighs were not for the strenuous labor. No, they were turned to his captor and captain.

Though he tried fastidiously to bar her form his thoughts, there she stood not a few steps behind him, her hand guiding the wooden wheel with her expertise skill. Left hand behind her back, she managed the wooden spokes expertly to guide them. With her so near, the thought of flinging her from his mind was near impossible. He could barely do so when she was out of sight!

What traipsed through that head of hers, he wondered as he spared a furtive glance her way? What thoughts prowled the edges of her mind?

"Something on your mind, Rumpel?" Belle asked casually. Eyes still pinioned upon the invisible dot on the gray rim of the horizon, she did not even acknowledge him with a quick turn of her head.

Wood upon wood clattered awkwardly as Rumpel's brush nearly slipped out of his hand in surprise. His heart jumped tremulously in his chest at her critical observation. How had she known?

Forcing himself calm, he feigned a casual shrug to deny the fear spotted upon his cowardly heart. "Why would you ask, captain?" he returned tenuously with a soft grunt from his labors and continued to scrub the rail.

A flicker of merriment glittered like the sun in her eyes but hinted nowhere else upon her face. "You've been giving that sigh for the past thirty minutes, just as long as you have been scrubbing that one spot." A sliver of humor splintered through her wry tone. "I know my ships not the best but hardly so filthy to require such ardent cleaning."

Horror filled the spinner as her word brought the realization to him. Limping back a step he looked at the place he had been absently tending. The faded color of the the amber hued wood was almost gone from the spot. Only a slew of gray bubbles remained to accuse him of his senseless toil.

Quickly amending the situation, he pushed the bucket further away and scuttled a few paces more to continue his task. The soap and bubbles dribbled and dripped like leaky gray clouds over the edges as he returned to is job with a furor. Bending his back to scrub the wooden rail-work, he rapidly to make up time for his thoughtlessness.

A small smile hedged her lips as she well imagined his terror and haste. "Rumpel." His name tumbled mildly from her lips.

"Yes captain?" He scrubbed madly, intent to not come under her disapproving eye anymore than needs be.

"You didn't answer me," she pointed out simply. Giving the wheel a small turn to the right, she still kept her eyes pinned to the horizon. "Something on your mind?"

If he was curious about something, then she was curious as to why he was curious. Why did he always look back at her when he thought she did not see him? What thoughts hounded him?

Licking his chapped lips he shook his head. "No… not really… I mean." Stopping finally, knowing he could not concentrate least he do something to quell the burning questions in his mind, he straightened and looked at her. "Why are you always at the wheel?" he finally asked, his curiosity no longer fit to remain behind his teeth.

"I am the captain, am I not?" she challenged, her tone neutrally stiff. "Am I not allowed to do as I please aboard my own ship?"

In truth, she had no way directly to answer him. No one had ever asked why. They always pinned her steerage as one of her many oddities. What made her oddity stand out to him so great that he could not even concentrate?

He nodded and hurried back to his work. "Certainly, but don't boson's and navigators handle that sort of work? Why you, personally?"

What prompted her to have such a hands on approach to the ruling of her ship? Why did she simply not bandy out orders and see that they were done? What did her eyes seek to steer towards? Where in mind did she head?

Silence encompassed the pair. An odd wind whispered betwixt them, Belle's thoughtfulness entwined with his nervous airs.

Did she dare tell him, she wondered? Of course there would be nothing close to the real truth but a snippet of truth should have been just as good. "I like to steer the wheel," she admitted simply, her lips a thin line. "Help's me forget." Her right hand carelessly turned the spoke an inch as though she had forgotten the navigation before her.

His brow knit curiously. "Forget what," he inquired and pulled at a pin that was in his way.

Now that the question had be answered, somewhat, he felt the burning curiosity simmer for the moment so that doing his chores were not so difficult to focus upon.

"Forget that my new prisoner is asking questions rather than doing his job," she dodged cleverly. She didn't even dare answer that question to herself and certainly not to a man who kept the most curious of thoughts.

Finally flickering her azure gaze to the spinner, her curiosity now set anew, she turned her head fully to him. "What are you doing?"

Tugging at the firm pin, he gritted his teeth. "Trying to get this bearing out the way so I can…." His words stopped short as the pin popped free and a deadly whiz hissed through the air.

Without thinking, Belle dove into action. Racing away from the wheel, she scampered over to the spinner. The wheel behind her spun crazily, turning the ship sharply to the left as she came to his rescue. Shouts and curses of people pitching over resounded through the ship as they fell to the deck with the sudden heave.

Belle's feet stumbled at the sharp turn, nearly pitching her over but too used to the tumult of the ship, kept her balance. Taking the few steps to the cripple, she managed to near him. Grabbing the edge of his brown tunic she pulled him back from the railing.

A great gasp wheezed from his lips as his air cut off a moment as the hand lugged him back a few paces. Turning about in a panic, the hands of the beautiful captain clamped upon the front of his tunic with an iron grip born of a long life on the seas.

"Watch out!" Belle cautioned and tugged him to the ground.

Whoosh!

The deadly sound of huge movement hissed murderously through the air. Chains rattled as cords thrummed their deadly song about them.

Not a moment too soon had the beauty pulled the spinner down before a tackle block whirled over them. A hook attached to the end of the tackle swooped dully like a deadly hawk. Wood and iron and rope whistled over them like an enemy club. The pin hanging by a rope at the end as the sail swung free, accusing him all to readily of his blunder.

The large swigging bit of block, used to help haul heavy crates aboard, was exactly the height of an average man. At the speed the lumber swung by, the thing could have crushed his skull with ease and swiped his lifeless carcass over board as easily as a dragons swipe of a claw. Another man would have been dead had not her quick action saved them both.

Releasing her grip, Belle reorganized herself. Her heart beat a flutter of a stuttering tattoo in her chest. As the near death experience washed over her mind focused upon the spinner once more.

The spinner who was, unfortunately, atop her.

Taken by the yell, he had turned at the last moment as she had pulled him back.

The next few moments had been but a blur but as the situation became clear they saw what horror they had wrought. In the moment of blurring confusion that had shred, they saw their straights. They had both fallen to the deck.

Him atop her.

Breath heaved uneasily out his lungs as he looked down upon her. He had never been so close to her nor had he expected ever to be. The scents of jasmine and mint surrounded her and her sapphire eyes glittered with diamonds in them. Her dark amber hair fell messily about her, framing her face and rebelliously tickling her soft visage.

Surprise specked his own image as he realized what had occurred. The woman had saved his life.

His mouth stammered mutely before his mind began to form words. "Thank…."

"What'd you think you're doing you land-scum idiot!" Gaston's voice broke through the moment of thanks.

Rough hand grabbing Rumpel again by the collar, the hulking boson hauled the cripple up. Lifting the spinner easily he snarled furiously, his noxious breath billowing into Rumpel's face.

With incredible ease against the slight Rumpel, the boson crashed the man into the wooden rail like an old doll. Holding his throat beneath his rough hands, he bent the spinners back over the rail as though to snap his spine. "What in Hades do you think you're doing? Who told you to touch anything but the soap and the brush prisoner? You almost took off our captains head! Why if I could I'd get the cat o' nine tails and flog you till your back was rags!"

Trembling fingers clambering at the bosons wrist, Rumpel tossed his head as best he could. His feet slipped constantly over the soap slick deck as he tried to find purchase and release the ache in his bent back. "Please," his word tumbled frantically in a terrified croak. "I… I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't you idiot! That's why you're not allowed to touch things!" vehemently roared Gaston. Holding the spinner easily in the uncomfortable position Gaston turned to the captain. Once she was on her feet, his grin turned wicked. "With permission captain I'd like to give him a few lashes and see how a dose of saltwater on them would suit his fancy."

If he couldn't kill the blasted man at least he could torment him. Oh yes, he would rue the day he had dared tried to stop him from taking his son. No one stopped Gaston. No one.

Before Belle could reply another voice ran out. The small voice carried lightly over the ship but the news was heard by all. "Ship on the horizon!" a voice announced excitedly from the crows nest.

Immediately, all head looked up to the soul lodged as lookout in the crows nest. Eyes one and all followed the man's skinny arm to the gray rim of the sea.

Immediately forgetting Rumpel, Gaston dropped the spinner. His steps quickly thundered to the prow for a better view. Slipping out a rusty scope from his tunic pocket, he peered through. "Right he is!" His scowl formed into a grin. "Ship on the horizon!"

The words were as fire under the feet of the pirates. Racing about the effective killers moved to tack sails and gather weapons if need be. The sight of another ship put little else in mind.

Sliding down to the deck, Rumpel gasped heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Each gulp of air brought a sharp pain to his lungs, but at least he was alive. His heart raced like a hare just barely escaping a wolf. Nerves thrilling, he leaned his head back against the rail. His eyes closed tightly as he praised whatever deities he could name that the pirate had spotted the ship.

He could have possibly been flogged mercilessly. If, he realized suddenly, the captain had allowed such an evil deed to be wrought upon him.

Opening his eyes he spotted her blue orbs braced upon him, her brow knit to near invisible lines as he stared upon him.

Would she have given the brute permission, he wondered?

Scrubbing the beads of sweat off his face, the spinner looked away to the deck. "I really am sorry," he swore nervously. "Had I known…."

"Mistakes happen," she replied, her tone strict. "Let us hope for all our sakes they do not occur again."

A deathly sigh escaped Belle's lips as she turned away from the spinner. Lucky for them the ship and been spotted. Heaven only knew what she would have replied to Gaston's request. With the ship in sight her boson would all but forget the little incident and if he brought the matter up again she could shrug off the matter with ease.

Stalwartly shaking the thoughts of leniency or punishment away, Belle turned her attention to the ship.

At least with a ship in sight she could forget the sight of him atop her.

For the moment of course.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: I wasn't too pleased with this so I decided to touch this chapter up a bit.  
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	6. A Ship

A ship?

Hope sprang brilliantly in Rumpelstiltskin's frail heart as the activity aboard _The Forgotten Rose_ churned about him with the news of the vessel drawing their way. He felt rooted in awe, a stalwart stone in the midst of a turbulent brook with the scrap of information doled out so preciously before them.

Another ship could mean many things that could fare to his advantage. The vessel could be traders, royals, or he even dared to guess, a ship filled with some king's fighters. Any of them could carry more than the crew of the _Rose _and perhaps defeat the pirates with ease. He and his boy could be potentially rescued!

If, a speckle of doubt shamelessly tugged him, they were not mistaken for pirates as well and killed on the spot. But no, he sternly shook his head as though tossing the thought off as he watched the pirates get to work; surely they would stand out from the murderous bunch.

"Oi there, Rumble bumble, shift yourself!" Silver waved a thick, hairy arm beckoning him to the prow.

His stained apron strings snapped softly in the wind, that always seemed crueler at the front of the boat, and the hem of the filthy thing clung to his breeches. A great smile slashed merrily across his sweat stained face belaying any anger in his tone.

Bae stood to his side, his round boyish face caught between anger and intrigue as so often he felt now. He kept close to Silver but just close enough to not be in the way.

Not daring to keep the cook waiting, the spinner limped across the deck. Apologies tumbled timidly from his lips as he ducked and dodged the hurriedly moving suntanned bodies of the pirates.

They were all too busy than to have their prisoner get in their path. More than one curse was despicably hurled his way before he came through the stream of hurried pirates and to the prow of the _Rose_.

Great laugh booming from his huge body, Silver lightly punched Rumpel's shoulder like some old comrade. "About time. Captain wants ye both under close watch see," he made no allusion of what he wanted them for but told them plainly. They still were not trusted to be alone when action called.

"Do they all run like scared rats on a sinking ship when another boat that could defeat them comes into view?" Bae asked caustically to the cook. Eyes pinioned upon the pirates, his lips formed into a small sneer as he watched them scuttle about to meet the ship that sailed their way.

"Son," Rumpel snapped hastily, afraid of what his words might bring. If such talk got back to the captain they could have been adumbrate in her cold wrath. The captain's graces could not last forever.

A mocking grunt as though he had been wounded tumbled grandiosely from the cook. "Oi that hurts right to me golden heart lad." He tapped his broad chest with scared knuckles as a chuckle fell from his bearded lips. "No, y'see Captain Belle's boys nary run from a fight. But cut a glance about ye, what'd you see?"

Squinting his brown eyes, Bae spied the busy pirates. "Weapons, planks and … rum?"

Rum? Lines of confusion beetled the spinner's brow as he watched one or two pirates roll out wooden kegs. That made so sense in the slightest. Why would the pirates be fetching rum from their stores to meet an oncoming enemy?

"Ah bright lad ye are," praised Silver with a gurgling laugh. "We like to make another ship feel welcome just in case."

Rumpel turned to the one legged cook. "In case of what?"

A sly smirk crept upon Silver's grizzled jowls. Slapping Rumpel's back lightly, he turned the spinner back to face the prow. Using his free hand he plunged into a pocket at the belly section of his filthy apron and brought up a neatly crafted spy glass. The wooden cylindrical item was finely made of rose wood and trimmed with polished silver all around.

"Now then Rumble bumble." He pulled the spy glass so that the item was as long as a child's arm. "Ye just take a look at that ship, since they're probably close enough now and just tell me what ye sees."

Forcing the silver article in his calloused hand, the cook pushed the timid cripple to the edge of the prow. Rumpel looked back nervously, afraid to go along but more afraid of disobeying the cook, especially after Bae's ill timed words.

Knuckles white about the spy glass, the spinner peered through the tapered end. Indeed since the ship had been spotted they had come much nearer. The ship was a two masted schooner that expertly rode the waves like a dolphin over the foamy crests. The ship looked in fine repair and the bodies he could see aboard the deck all looked decently dressed in uniforms.

At the top of the largest sail fluttered two flags. The top banner boasted a golden, crown, the seal of some kingdom, stitched intricately upon a bed of white. The other banner below he could not identify but boasted an apple red fabric stitched with gold upon the edges. A singular coin glinted in the middle of that pennant but what meaning he could not possibly guess. Perhaps merchant, and if he was correct, the ship could have been that of a royal schooner with goods set for a king himself.

That, even for pirates would be hard pressed to defeat.

Hope once again allowed a bright ray to filter down into his weak heart. They had to be soldiers of some sort and by the look of their fine ship a good match for _The Forgotten rose_.

"Well Rumble bumble?" asked Cook lazily as he scratched his rotund girth. "What'd ye spy?"

Fear gripped icy claws about his heart, but then they were set to engage the ship. There was no need to lie about the vessel. "Looks like some royal boat. I know a royal crest when I see one," he tentatively affirmed and passed the glass back.

Plundering the glass from the spinner's hand, the cook took a turn peering out. His smirk never faded as he peered with an expert eye at the incoming ship. "Right ye are my friend," he chuckle handsomely and retracted the glass. Slipping the glass into his pocket he lightly patted the item and chuckled once more.

"And the captain thinks she can take them with ease?" voiced Bae from the either side of the gargantuan cook. "Does she think she can defeat all her enemies? Even royal ones?"

Even he knew one did not engage a royal ship lightly, lest some revenge bent king sent down an entire force to hunt them down.

"Why lad." The cook turned to the boy, his eyes glittering mischievously. "Who said they were enemies?"

Turning away from the ship steady drawing nearer, Silver cupped his hands to his face and hollered to the captain at the wheel. "Put away the weapons your ladyship, tis friends!"

"Friends?" Confusion hinted the voice of the spinner. "But that's a royal ship." He pointed a worn digit back to the schooner drawing ever near.

The cook shook a greasy finger at him. "Aye, tis a royal ship, no mistake, but tis something a bit more special than that," his laugh rumbled over the waters as though he had gotten a fine joke out of their expense. And, knowing Silver, he probably had. "Lads." He gathered them both in his great arms and propelled them to another corner of the ship. "Ye got to learn your difference betwixt a legit royal ship and a privateer's."

~8~8~

A little over an hour passed before the two ships came within spitting distance of one another. Both nearly the same height and power, they stood toe to toe and yet they did not stand enemies but friends.

Halloos of old shipmates ran over the tumultuous waters as both ships engaged in well mets and coarse jokes too long un-uttered. The sides of both boats were littered with men and women calling over and holding out things to trade or asking for news that they gobbled as swiftly as they would their meals.

So close, the contrast was amazing in the choice of crew. Belle's men and women were haggard and filthy in their rags and sashes and long ago bright ostentatious clothes than had worn to shreds, whilst the other ship boasted men and women in king's uniform with sabers at their hips and bows on their backs.

They formed ranks and had companies and yet they greeted the pirates amiably with the same crassness their breed designed. For all purposes, they seemed like pirates who had found a ship filled with guards gear and sough to play pretend.

The ships themselves varied as well from the rough patch work of the _Rose_ to the bright paint of royal blue and autumn gold of the schooner. The privateer ship was well kept, even to the name which was painted in bright gold letters the spell out the words, _The Prince Charming._

"There's still so much ye got to learn about sea farin' Rumble bumble," lazily sighed the cook. Leaning on a barrel at the far corner of the ship, he kept his two charges well away from the greeting lest they become a hindrance.

Or more to the point for Silver, draw suspicion.

His bright eyes watched as old gray planks were brought out from both ships and fitted across the grooves on the ships sides to allow both crews to come and go as they wished. A few long time friends eager to meet one another again scampered between ships as an all too warm reunion was struck up.

At the end of one of the furthest of the planks, Belle stood stiffly, her face devoid of the all about cheer around her. Dressed in a faded blue sea coat with white lace at the end and her plain brown leather breeches, she remained a dashing figure in a sea of roughness.

Confusion still netted the spinners face and even more so at Cook's words. "Apparently I have more to learn than I thought," he admittedly wryly and watched the men from the other side greet Belle as easily as her crew would, though she only replied with a brisk nod. "Here I thought royal guards were meant to… stop pirates."

"I told ye before these are no ordinary king's sailors," Silver grunted pleasantly and leaned back on a rope bound water cask. Crossing his ankles, he took on a more sagely aura. "Privateers are pirates in just another name. They're just polished up to look just a touch decent, given permits to rob wantonly, and for officials to turn a blind eye when they aint allowed to plunder some vessels. Make no mistake they're pirates all right, just all dolled up to tell the people that they work for they're on their side. Still." He folded his hands across his belly. "For uniform prancing killers…. nice to see them all the same."

"You know them?" The spinner tore his gaze away to look at the garrulous cook.

Pointing a finger to the gangplank of _The Prince Charming_, now flanked with a few of the privateers to add a more official look to the charade before they were dismissed, he nudged the spinner with his elbow. "Aye we know 'em well. Watch now and I'll explain for ye."

Even as the words fled his tongue two people appeared from a cabin upon the schooner. Tall and proud yet congenial and humble, they walked hand in hand down the plank from the _Charming_ to the _Rose_.

The man held himself tall with a dashing air about him that was not haughty but good natured. Beside him stood a smaller woman with hair as black as raven's wings and skin as white as new paper.

Both wore the blue of the privateers, leggings and all, but both could nary have passed as officials. They seemed as wild and free as the wind but composed just so with large smiles and kind eyes.

"That'd be Captain David and Captain Snow White," Silver explained nonchalantly, always ready to dole out a tale. "Tis said Captain Snow was a princess who fell in love with a common man who was trying to be passed off as a prince from some other kingdom. They fell in love but when they discovered he wasn't a prince but a twin, the father of Snow wanted to call off the marriage. Snow refused and the king, unable to deny his daughter anything set her free from the royal duties. Instead she was given charge of the ship and became a privateer with her unapproved man." He shrugged carelessly and absently picked at a bit of food stuck in his rotting teeth. "They aint the worst I seen. They do their duty mostly keeping her fathers waters safe in their own harsh way, but don't underestimate them. Pirates one and all try to get aboard a ship like that, especially Snow's. They'll steal the very whiskers off your chin, and they get rewarded to do so!"

Taking in the information, Rumpel let the words absorb in him as they watched the privateers from afar.

"Belle," Snow's soft voice broke through the conversations of all the pirates that milled about them. Soft smile upon her lips she shook the woman's hand hearty before wrapping her in a hug. "How've you been?"

Still neutrally business like, Belle remained still as though Snow had hugged a slight stone pillar. "I'm well Snow," she cleared her throat and inclined her head, "David." She motioned her hand. "Into my cabin I have some good wine." As she turned her voice rose commandingly. "Rumpel, you will serve us."

A gray pall swept across Rumpel's visage at the command. Him? Certainly she did not mean her bumbling captive. With his luck he would probably dump the wine over both of them and start a war.

"Mama can I come too?" another voice, the voice of a young girl chimed determinedly from the schooner. Eyes turned towards the plank again, a young lass in faded boys clothes stood at the top of the plank where the Charmings had once walked.

Her hair, covered with a frumpy old brown hat, fell down to her shoulders and looked the color of honey wheat. Her face was set and curious but determined for her way and adventure.

"Emma." Snow turned to the plank disapprovingly. "You were told to stay in your cabin."

"Emma." Belle arched a brow. "I haven't seen her since she was a babe. She has to be… fourteen by now," she mused aloud to the couple.

Emma jutted out her chin proudly. "Fourteen and a half."

"A fourteen and a half year old who should listen to her parents," a frustrated sigh insipidly passed David's lips. "Emma is our cabin girl as well. We thought she could use the practice of being on board and learning to take orders."

Snow tossed her arms up slightly in irascible, but motherly irritation. "Futility at it's finest."

Though they tried to instill obedience into Emma, she was determined to go her own way. She loved and respected her parents as they did with her, but when she was determined they were at odds and many a time they had not the will to punish her for her ways.

She was just like them of course.

A small smile graced Belle's lips. "I know the feeling. I have a cabin boy the same age who thinks he is as fearless as a dragon."

At that, Emma jogged down the plank. In a heartbeats she was by her parent's side. Her wide, yet stony eyes looked up to the beauty. "You have a cabin boy? Can I talk to him? What's he look like? What's his name?"

"Emma hasn't had many other children her age around," Snow explained a bit guiltily for perhaps that was the reason for her daughters coming rebellion. "I'm sure she would much rather talk to your cabin boy than to go along with us."

Nodding lightly, another smile tipped the beauty's lush lips. "Agreed." Turning, she regally beckoned the prisoners. "Baelfire, you will show miss Emma about, Rumpel, I believe this is the second time I've called you."

Put on the spot, both scuffled forward. Bae had not taken his eyes off the girl but dragged himself forward as though he were being moved by some invisible hand too put up with his impetuousness.

A small flush bloomed on his cheeks but the tan that was settling in hid the fire that rose to his face. Finally as he drew near, he looked down, unable to keep the young girls gaze. He felt as though his soul was stuffed into a bag and all he wanted to do was break free and fly away.

Jerking a thumb back to the further part of the ship, he kicked at the deck and mumbled, "Come on, I know all the best hiding spots on the ship."

"Great let's go!" Emma excitedly grabbed Bae by the hand and took off like an arrow in the general direction that he had pointed.

So taken aback by her eagerness, Bae had only been dragged along as though in a daze at the whirlwind that was Emma.

A fond chuckle and loving smiles graced the faces of the privateer captains before they turned to Rumpel and Belle. A few curious glances met the spinner but they wisely kept their moths closed.

"Now then to the cabin," Belle stated officially and strode to her cabin with those she invited behind.

The inside of the cabin was quite cool given the time of day. A few windows lay cracked open to allow the sharp salt sea breezes to flow. The trinkets and treasures tinkled and jingled in the mild air as they sat down and made themselves comfortable.

Dutifully, Rumpel limped to the decanter in her chambers. His hands worked swiftly in pouring the plum colored wine into small crystal tumblers for her and her guests.

"So," Belle sighed and settled down in her chair. "What news?"

Surely there was some reason that their ship was so far out of Leopold's watery territory. Privateers like Snow and David rarely prowled new ground so far away. Unless their kingdom was in straights they rarely abused others water ways.

"We were on our way to a kingdom with a note from my father," Snow explained then paused. "And to pass the word to every fellow pirate ship we saw."

Curiosity alit a smoldering flame in Belle. "What word?" she inquired as the spinner laid the glasses before them.

Waving him off into a corner, she dubiously eyed the pair before her intently. News by pirates was nothing new but when they came with express new, well that was a different matter.

"Regina's calling for a pirates feast," David explained before sipping the wine. "There is to be a celebration of such proportions that there will be talk of the feast for years to come."

Belle absently picked up her glass and held the tumbler to her eye. Her face wrinkled lightly with trouble from the news. "So early in the year?"

"She wanted to catch everyone when the seas were calm. She doesn't want any ship to miss the gathering," Snow clarified neatly, and then lowered her voice to a murmur. "No doubt to just flaunt her spoils."

The beauty nodded assent with that gross estimation. Regina was one to claim she held all fairness upon the seas as well as her treasures. Despite being the most ruthless pirate to ever set sail she was also vain. "That may well be, but I thank you for the news. We will be certain to be there."

"Then we'll meet you there in three months time." Snow quickly drained her glass and rose slowly. "We'd best be going while the winds in our favor."

"Aye." Belle dismissed them with a nod.

Muttering their goodbyes both exited leaving the captain to think.

Hand fingering a golden button on her vest, Belle leaned back in her seat. Regina was up to something. She always was.

"What'd you think Rumpel?" The question bounded from her lips before she could curb her tongue. The query came almost naturally to her senses. She was always rethinking and planning but rarely did she voice her thoughts to another.

But why had she asked him? He knew nothing of sea faring and the dangers nor the intricacies of that life. Why did she lean so naturally to ask his opinions? Perhaps because of his open face that seemed to discern more than he let on, or perhaps that when he spoke they had an understanding between one another.

Coughing awkwardly into a fist the spinner shrugged. "I don't know captain, but if you have as much distaste for this woman as you seem perhaps you should not go."

"Distaste?" the beauty turned to look at him. "How do you know I have distaste for her?" she queried tersely. She did of course, but how he scried that knowledge?

Thin shoulders heaving tenuously in a shrug, the spinner looked away from her eyes. "I… uh. I saw the look on your face."

Though they had only been around one another for a handful of weeks, he could ascertain her emotions fairly well. They were hard to espy at first but with a little work he could tell what even Cook could scarcely discern the best of times. Her moods were carefully hidden but not so well as she might have imagined.

At least, in his eyes.

"Well." Her moth pinched shrewdly. "True enough. Regina is the pirate queen and for good reason. Still, she does make one loathe her." A sigh abruptly fled her lips. "Yet I must go. There is no way about to dodge her blasted feast now."

Shuffling around to the glasses, the cripple gathered the glass tumblers. "Well, you can find some way captain."

If there was one thing Belle was, she was gifted with the mind to figure out almost anything. Her genius though she rarely allowed the cunning to show was most impressive.

Her lush, pink lips pulled into a small smile of amusement. "Is that a kernel of faith I hear in you?"

For the first time a wary smile replied to hers. "Perhaps," he admitted though dared not look up to her.

A whispering chuckle fled from her lips. The melodic sound was as a strange breath of life.

Surprised by the noise, Rumpel paused. His fingers clutched the used glasses in mid air as he stopped to hear the strange sound, then almost like an infectious spell, a small laugh breached from his mouth.

In a pleased mood now, though not certain why, the beauty proffered her hand to the wine bottle. "Well spoken Rumpel. Here, why don't you pour yourself a little wine."

She did not offer often, but he seemed to take away her inkling of frustration directed at Regina.

"That's very generous of you." He topped off her tumbler and poured some into a fresh one.

How rare his ease about her. How rare her smile and amiable attitude! They had never ben on comfortable terms with one another but now, perhaps just for the moment...

Putting the cup to his lips he was just about to enjoy the drink of her good humor.

That was of course before the cry and the splash.


	7. Trouble

Captain and captive stared curiously at one another as the sound died away aboard the ship. A collective sigh seemed to simultaneously tumble from their lips as they both but their crystal tumblers down. The plum liquid like the tumultuous waves outside and the frustration that swirled within.

Never a dull moment….

Leaning heavily upon his crutch, Rumpel limped his way to the door. He only prayed the noise wasn't what he thought. But then again he was a father and when matters came to his child he seemed to have evolved a sixth sense that could always be activated when his son was a culprit of some mischief.

In an instant Belle was up and around her deck to stand by his side as though she too had ascertained his thoughts. Sharply, she cut in front of the spinner and yanked open the door. The sun glinted sharply through the portal, snatching away what little, wary ease they had so tenuously shared in the brief moment of alone time.

One hand upon the pommel hilt of her poniard she stepped out bravely upon the deck. Her azure orbs darted about swiftly trying to espy the trouble that had reared the shout. The neutrality of her lovely face gave no hint of what wandered her brain, but to say she was displeased wouldn't have been a terrible guess.

"What's going on here?" she asked neutrally, her voice only skirting with a suggestion of displeasure. Surely, she hoped beyond compare, someone had not started some bad blood. Pirates or not, a feud was laughably easy to start with some of the most inane actions.

"A cabin boy and girl who can't get along to save their souls my lovely Cap'n, ma'am" Silver responded dryly.

Turning to the stern, Belle spied the lumbering, greasy cook. His body dripped cold salt water into large puddles at his feet. His straggly hair hung close to his eyes making him seem like a shaggy Newfoundland than a man. A grin he could not repress lay wide upon his lips, but that did not allay the frustration in his voice.

Holding the two culprits before him, he kept boy and girl rooted to the spot for all to see. Sullen, angry looks marbled their young, wet faces as they were dragged before the pirates. If looks could have killed, both would have been already rotting in the sun.

"Emma." Snow came forward but made no move to snatch up her daughter lest some fight break out. "What happened?"

Relaxing, Belle eyed Bae before her eyes darted to his father. The curious spinner watched, his face pale with fear but made no move to interceded yet. "Yes, what happened?" she seemed to ask the timid cripple for reasoning to his sons behavior, though she did not speak to him directly.

"Bae said I wasn't a real pirate and I was just trying to pretend," complained Emma and rubbed her drenched face with her sopping sleeve. She shot the boy a murderous glance. "So I pushed him because he's a dumb boy."

Bae glared at her with equal ferocity. "And then she fell over herself because she's a stupid girl!"

"Ay, ay, enough of that. You're both to old for this now." Silver parted them further in case they started swinging at one another. Looking at them both, the culinary pirate mumbled sourly under his breath, "I seen sharks with less snap 'en these two. Had my eye on 'em them the whole time I did cap'n. They were fussin' right after yer captainships disappeared."

"So the onus appears to fall on our Emma." David ambled forward. The look on his face was one hardly of surprise, but molded of helpless frustration. She was her mother's daughter.

Belle shook his dark amber head. "Not without tempting from our Baelfire."

Our Baelfire?

A rarely plucked string pulled in Rumpel's heart at the words. He knew she readily considered all those aboard her ship as some sort of collective, but the notion even of something so calling his son, reopened a long forgotten chest in his soul. How long had he felt guilty no other had called Bae theirs; that he had no one else to lay claim to his boy?

"Trust us," Snow began and shot her daughter a stern look, "Our daughter will answer for this."

"As will Baelfire," Belle agreed swiftly without a hint of anger but of coldness of a judge.

A lurid laugh gurgled from the filthy cook. "Ah tis fair, fair. All settled then I hopes." Recoiling his sausages fingers from Emma and Bae's shoulders, he sent them sprawling their separate ways with a push.

Their damp boots squished upon the deck as both glumly slogged a dripping path to their parents. A blistering look of wrath dallied crossed both their faces as they parted. Neither was overly pleased with the other.

He was too stubborn.

She was too headstrong.

Fatherly hand upon Emma's shoulder, David directed her to the unsteady plank leading to the _Charming_. "You are in big trouble young lady."

"But daddy this is all his fault," protested the fiery lass. "He's just a prisoner anyway, he told me. Since when do we get in trouble for dealing with prisoners?"

Why did she have to be punished because a prisoner was overly opinionated and was perhaps right? And why did he make her act so stupid! Yes, she knew very well she shouldn't have pushed him, but her mind hadn't worked right since she had tugged him away to explore.

"Prisoner?" Snow parroted curiously and turned back to Belle. A look of confusion and knowing suspicious narrowed in her eyes.

"Ay you know how children are!" slyly bellowed the cook, immediately running interference of the words best left unspoken. Limping between the captains he scratched his great girth and put on an air of indolent insouciance. "He thinks he's a prisoner how we makes 'em work. Rebellious young 'un's ye know, always think ye're there to bind 'em to the deck!"

Dark eyes searching the cook, Snow slowly nodded. "Right," she agreed uncertainly, for that was true enough, though there was no convincing her with such a paltry diversion. There was more to the matter and she had an inkling what. Flickering a dubious glance to the boy then to Belle her eyes gleamed with pity. "Belle you're not…," she sighed helplessly as though seeing an old friend drive themselves to ruin.

"Indeed I am," the beauty admitted stiffly, too proud to lie now that she was caught.

Until she could no longer draw breath she would always be there, mocked and pitied for the quest that had plagued her so long and bound the miserable crew together. She couldn't hide the matter now, not from Snow.

Snow took a step forward. "But again? Belle I thought you were over…."

"Smooth sailing Snow White," the brown haired beauty cut in sternly, leaving no room for discussion. Turning on her heel, she gracefully strode back to her cabin without hearing another word about the matter.

The entire deck sat silent as a watery grave as she walked away so curtly. Only the hard steps of her leather boots oddly filed the air before they abruptly stopped half way to her cabin.

Standing before the sullen Baelfire, she kept her chin stiff as she looked forward, but not towards the boy at her side. "Mr. Baelfire, I expect to see you after your chores to dole out your proper punishment for this matter."

"C… captain." Rumpel began to shuffle forward. His heart knocked against bone with the arrhythmia of fear. Now his son had stirred the pot as it were. The captain's patience had run out to an end and now he had awoken her cold wrath upon himself.

Before he could bungle another word, she raised her hand to silence him. "Unless you want me to actually take Gaston's earlier supplication I would advise you to be quiet on this matter," a hint of anger broke through her voice.

Cowed by the rare flare of her fury, the spinner shrank back like a mouse in face of a snapping cat. He seemed like a shriveled excuse for a human being, leaning on his knobbed crutch and curling dejectedly into the stick as though that was where his very soul resided.

Without another word, the beauty finished her trek to her luxurious cabin. The door slammed like a gavel ending the rather quaint meeting of pirates.

With that matter at an end, slowly the ship once more began to slip into the familiar flow. Pirates went about taking sails, coiling rough hemp rope, and a thousand other little tasks whilst some went below to hoard their newly bargained treasures bartered by the other pirates.

Dourly, Rumpel limped back along to the galley with his son in tow. Though the day was hot enough to fry a man's skin from his body, he felt frighteningly cold. Bae was finally in Belle's wrath and somehow he had to top her fury from rushing down upon the only precious thing left in his life.

~8~8~

The ship was bobbing at anchor in the middle of the night before Rumpelstiltskin plucked up his courage to confront Belle. Clouds harried over the once clear night sky and promised rain for the next day, yet at the moment left all the sea in inky, unknowing black. A thousand krakens could have been swarming beneath them and none of them would have been the wiser.

Standing at her cabin door the spinner tried to pluck up his nerve. His calloused fingers so used to spinning hours upon end, rapped nervously over his crutch. Situations such as this truly did send him into a frightening state, but something had to be done.

He certainly was in deplorable straights. Either he could make things better or, more likely, make them worse. Still, he had to try. What she planned for Bae he knew not for the boy refused to utter a word, but whatever punishment she had unduly allotted he would have to break.

Lifting a slightly trembling hand, the spinner cautiously knocked upon the door. While the sound was almost lost, so timid was his try, to his ears, his slow raps boomed like breakers crashing upon the deck. When no sound came forth, nearly gave into his weakness and cowardice like a went piece of paper folding. But no, he licked his dried lips and forced his hand to rise again, this was for Bae.

Knocking firmer, he held his courage as mightily as he could in the face of what he was about to do.

"Enter," her voice dully bade from the other side of the portal.

Rumpel forced himself not to jump with the curt reply. Though he wished for words, her voice was like death beckoning him which could have very well been so. One did not tempt the captain especially with her mind made.

"For Bae," he whispered to himself to push forward as he opened the door.

The cabin was warmly lit as usual for the beauty. Her cabin was the only place that offered warmth and comfort aboard the ship and yet the coldest of them all called the cabin home.

His warm brown eyes adjusted to the dimness as he warily stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a ominous click. His orbs searched for the beauty and instead of her sitting at her desk she stood at her window.

Without facing him, her eyes spotted him in the reflection of the glass. "Rumpel," she acknowledged coldly.

"Forgive the late hour captain but I need to speak to you," he explained and scuffled for a few steps more.

His heart raced wantonly in his chest as his breath seemed to come out chased by pins lodged in his throat. Her wrath had not abated he could tell, even behind her cold calm that punctiliously claimed her lovely visage.

Her mouth pinched firmly for a moment. "About your Baelfire?" she concluded soundly. Surely he would not disturb her for any other reason than his precious boy.

Warily licking his lips, he forced his head down as he tried to summon his reasoning and courage. "Captain he's an angry lad nowadays, all mixed up with him becoming a growing boy."

That was true enough. Bae was coming into himself as a teenager. He was becoming rebellious to authority and going his own way.

"That is no excuse," she parried simply with infallible logic that brooked no dissent. "He could have gotten us into a war with them. Pirate ships have been sunk by their own kind for smaller matters than insulting a cabin girl, the daughter of the captains no less."

Not only that but the lad had divulged information that had embarrassed her, and could potentially have posed a threat. If others less honorable than Snow had discovered what she was up to, there could have been plotting of the basest sort.

Nodding tenuously, the spinner tapped his crutch nervously. "Be that as it may I'd like to take his place. Whatever he's to do, whatever his punishment let me bear his burden."

If punishment was eminent the least he could accomplish was a way to take the pain off his son.  
>"You would coddle the boy to death," she aimed back mildly, always in the coldness of composure. "He will learn my way and he will learn his place."<p>

"But you don't know my son," the spinner protested courageously and lifted his face. "He will only dig his heels in harder with this sort of punishment. You do nothing but harden him to instruction. Show him that I take on his burdens and he will never again do something of that nature to risk me being punished."

Placing her hands behind her back, Belle tossed her head stiffly. "Don't be foolish. All habits can be broken and all ways kept in check my way. Your son will learn to act accordingly upon my ship."

Irritation sprinkled anger Rumpel's heart at her unwillingness to budge. Her ways didn't have to be the only way nor was her way the most effective. "If you have never raised a growing child you can't know. Punishments only make them more stubborn at this age," he argued with his undeniable experience. "I'm sure when you were fourteen you were a tad reb-"

"I never dared do something as abysmally foolish as he did today!" she snapped furiously as she spun about to face the spinner. Emotion ran rampant across her lovely face. Her cerulean eyes sparked with the intensity of emotion set ablaze and free without a hint of restraint or composure. "I run a strict ship and he humiliated me with his actions and his words!"

Humiliated her! That's what his blasted son had done with his foolish tongue! And now his father came to beg clemency from her and damn her heart but she felt inclined to take up his experience. She was not glued to her ways but now things were in a matter of pride.

Breath heaved sharply from her slender body as she stared at the shocked spinner. No doubt he probably through he would never see anything but a rare glint of temper, never her so unveiled.

In a moment the un-shuttered Belle was hidden again behind a cold composure. For years such an outburst had never occurred and now he was like acid burning down her walls. The man made her want to push against those icy walls that bound her and release what lay beneath but she scarcely dared.

Face settled again, the calm beauty cleared her throat serenely. "Perhaps what you say has some validity. Fine you take your sons punishment, three weeks scrubbing this ship from stem to stern with nothing but a rag."

Rumpel flinched at the hard punishment laid before him. He could almost feel his poor knees stiff with ache at the moment but dared not protest.

"Of course," he assented readily. Whatever the punishment his son was free of the act and he would be punished in his own way by watching his father work.

"And Rumpel," she added neutrally as she moved from the window to her desk. Her gaze was as cold as a glaciers side. "Do not mention you are prisoners to anyone who is not crew."

"Why does…," he was cut off by her icy glare. His words dragged off lamely back into silent from his query, his will not so brave to face her wrath again.

Nodding, he relieved turned to leave. His steps were soft as he exited leaving her and the remnants of their outwards emotions to themselves.

A large sigh toppled from Belle's lovely lips once alone with her thoughts. Pressing the heels of her hands upon her eyes, she dug her fingers through the fringe of her dark copper hair. "That man," she muttered softly unsure whether to feel amusement or irritation at the timid yet brave cripple who insisted on bringing out her emotions kicking and screaming.


	8. A Curiosity

"Ouch!" Sharp pains stabbed jabs of nerve shattering lightening through Rumpel's arms as he sluiced the old gray rag against the grime of the hold for what seemed the millionth time that day.

His worn breeches and the hem of his old tunic dripped with cold gritty water as he scrubbed the last little section of the hold. Dinner would soon be along and on top of the punishment he took for his son, his duties had not abated. Meals had to be made and platters topped so the crew could have their fill before he got a chance to toss his stiff body into his hammock.

When Bae had heard of the massive workload his father had taken upon himself he was as ashamed as a lad could have been. He promised near to tears to go back and finish the work for his father or even do the labor when all but the watchmen in the crows nest slept, but his father had forbidden him, touting the superstition of more punishment atop of the already heavy toll if he should do so.

The ploy was risky, knowing his sons rebellious side that had cropped up in his teenage years, but his scheme had worked and his son had glumly turned to be more pliable and reliant to the pirates request instead of bickering with them at every turn.

The guilt would work better than any lash or scolding tongue, Rumpel knew for he knew his boy like none other and though he hated to manipulate his son so, that was what would keep their hides and future punishment at bay.

At the moment however, he thought agonizingly, as a pain flicked across his lower back, he wished the punishment had been lighted. He was glad he had decided to punishment for the work was backbreaking and tedious.

All day he had been scourging. His hardened digits were red and swollen with the rough soap and the coarse wood he scraped and rubbed until the timber all but splintered and gouged into his hands or caught the rag.

Shaking his head, the grimacing spinner dunked his rag once more in the bucket. The shock of the cold salt water sent electric pangs shooting through his fingers as he brought the drenched rag forth and continued to scrub once more in to solitude and darkness of the hold.

Only one week had passed and he had two more to go in order to finish the punishment. All for their security he mouthed mutely. All for Bae.

"I have to commend you, Rumpel," Belle began easily as she ambled down the steps to the hold "Your plan worked."

Her dark amber hair gleamed in the few rays of light that stalwartly penetrated the dark murk of the hold before she stepped into the full adumbrate dimness out of the shock of brilliance from the steps.

Dressed in a gray blouse with frills at the cuffs, and dark leather pants, her clothes were lighter for the hot day. Her poniard sat at her hip of course but the weapon was the furthest thing from her mind, even with the spinner alone.

Light as a ghostly cat she stepped about the barrels, kegs, and other contraband that her ship held as she made her way to him. A familiarity matched her steps as though she had done such a thing before and in truth the visit was an all too common occurrence.

For some time now she did drop by to see him at work. Such was her punctilious reign of captain, nothing was ever overseen impersonally. The only difference from any other happenstance was that little by little she found herself lingering longer where he toiled, speaking to him, mayhap even sharing a joke from time to time.

Frowning into the wood, the spinner toiled away steadily without a hint of welcoming to the woman or pride for her words. "I know my son," he return humbly with no show of pleasure. Never did he wish to manipulate Bae but that was the way.

"You speak too humbly. He's become the most obedient cabin boy we've ever had thanks to you," Belle conferred and leaned against a strapped down barrel. Her lips downturned to a thoughtful frown. "I've seen many parents simply try to beat the stubbornness out of their young."

Rumpel shook his head vapidly, aghast at the very idea. "I could never. My son is precious to me. Do you try to destroy your treasures? That may work with others, but not my Bae. He… he's a good boy, just… willed," he spoke that last word with a fatherly sigh of exasperation.

"Like his father?" Belle arched a brow. Rumpel wasn't exactly strong suited, but perhaps there was a streak of stubbornness there somewhere prowling behind the taunt flesh and the limp.

A low snort of amount lightly echoed from the spinner. "Not me. That must have skipped a generation."

Soft chuckles of amusement spilt pleasantly from Belle. The way he said such things could be rather humorous from time to time. Tossing her light auburn hair in a shake, she retained her smile. "You speak to mildly of yourself."

Rumpel ducked his dirty brown head bashfully. "I've never been a strong willed man," he explained softly, his tone revealing a hint of bitterness.

If he had maybe his life could have been different. But alas the past was the past and he was what he was.

"No?" Bell challenged. "Come now you had the nerve to face me and ask to come aboard, and to also ask to spare your son punishment. That's not a feat so easily done and I know plenty who would nary have dared."

The rag made a wet splosh unto the deck as Rumpel worked steadily on to clear the grit. His face seemed as twisted with disgust at himself as the rag. "I was afraid I would never see my son again if he was taken. He's my world. And I don't want to see him punished. He's all I have." Before thinking, he added pleadingly to his case, "Don't you know what that's like?"

Regret stung hard and swift as the words split from his lips. They were like acid that burbled from his heart and he could not reason why he had asked such. His sinewy muscles tensed on instinct as he nervously waited for some blow, either verbal or otherwise to rain upon him for his hastily, ill spoken words.

Why had he let those words forth? Had he become so comfortable with her talking with him alone that he thought he could speak to her like no other?

"I do," Belle replied lowly. Head tilted in the darkness, she looked down at the dark deck. Pain crept at the corners of her thoughtful cyan eyes.

Indeed she did understand. More than any of them knew. Hadn't her life been so much the same once upon a long time ago? Didn't she carry the weight of that even there now upon her ship?

Hesitantly, Rumpel flicked a glance her way. Pangs tugged strange cords upon his fragile heart, playing a soft tune he rarely knew. There was pain in those eyes, so much he nearly felt the tears burn his own orbs. "I'm sorry for your loss," he muttered and returned to his work.

Was that why she was so hard, he wondered? He didn't know how he would react if he had been parted from Bae but he was certain that same look would have been endowed upon him. Something in him would have died if anything ever happened to Bae. Something cold and heartless would have taken its place.

Yes, he realized, he would have lost his very heart.

"Nothing to be sorry about," she replied curtly and cleared her throat as though tucking away an old emotion that had weaseled out of the coffin she where she kept her feelings. "Life happens and we must sail on accordingly. Remembering only brings heart ache that never mends."

"That's a…. different way to think of matters," Rumpel replied unsurely. His face creased with the thought that he did not agree with her words.

Certainly he did not see matters as such. Remembrance was a good thing, not to be cast away like some refuse.

Belle scoffed softly. "Oh and what is our spinners thoughts on the subject?"

What thoughts prowled her captive's brain to make him think otherwise? Was forgetfulness not the best cure for aches of the inside? What would make such pain worth recalling?

"I mean they're simply my opinions," declared Rumpel nervously. He never did dare well in uncharted ground of questions, especially from her. They could have been traps to plow him into some other punishment or catch him unawares for worse.

The beauty banked her head to the left. "I want to hear them."

"Captain…." He held up the dripping gray rag in the bleakness of the cramped hold. He still had his chores to be done and thought he dare not say so aloud he wished to relay his need lest she be speaking to him about more punishment added on to his already obscene amount.

Realization crinkled upon her face with his silent plea. Nodding, she pushed away from the barrel. "Forgive me I seem to be having a hand in driving you from your work. But I do wish to hear more from you, Rumpel. Believe it or not, you are a new wind I have yet to know. That being the case tell Silver I gave you the evening off in favor of something else."

The spinner cringed at the foreboding words as he brought the rag to be wetted again. Perhaps he had offended her and there was another long list of overnight chores to be done. "What… is that else, Captain?" he dared ask.

"Dinner." She smiled thinly down upon him. "Not serving me. With me."

Shocked, the rag nearly missed the bucket. His hands flew over the wood chipped rim nearly toppling the water out and on the floor. Panicked, he hastily lunged for the bucket and held it close so that only droplets spotted upon his tunic. "D... Dinner?" he parroted lamely, his words clumsily tumbling over themselves.

"Mhm." She nodded in astute assent, perhaps even with a hint of mischief that crept along the edges of her neutrality. "You aren't averse to having something other than the slop you and Silver dish out, do you?"

Dashing the fat beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, the poor spinner, so struck with the request numbly shook his head. His visage was welded with a miasma of confusion and terror. "Certainly not, but I'm just a prisoner."

He wasn't anything special. Yes, he loved his son and would go to the ends of the world for him but he was not inclined to be brave in any other matter in his life. Nor was he equally as inclined to relate to her how he saw the world and life.

"You have me curious, spinner," she admittedly freely with a terse nod of her lovely head. For a long time she had had her interested in him, though certainly he could not conceive why. But to her, he was a mystery to be uncovered, layers to unfold to see what lay at the very kernel of the man.

Not only that, but, she admitted inwardly tucked away from every other admission in her soul. He made fair company. He wasn't like Gaston or Jefferson or even Ariel who all shared her machinations. No, he was a different sort altogether and she felt willing to speak openly as much as she dared, even to listen to his worries and nervous thoughts on matters.

Comfortable, she diced perceptibly as she looked at him. For all his timidity, cravenness, and his weakness he made her feel comfortable. And that was a luxury she had not had in so very long.

Rumpel licked his lips hastily, a nervous habit that could always expose when he thought he was in dangerous straights. "I'll be there captain," he promised tentatively and went back to his chores.

His fingers as much as his body seemed almost numb with the news. The captain wanted to have him for dinner. Why him?

A smile perched upon Belle's lips as she all but drifted out from the hold. Light notes nearly hummed from her as she scaled the steps, but that would have made her crew stare more than if a kraken has spawned in place of her head.

As the light shed upon her once more, the beauty allowed the warmth to seep into her. Sun motes seemed to almost meld into her skin. She felt good and not only for asking Rumpel to dinner. Or perhaps, that was the reason entirely.

"Dinner, aye?" Silver harrumphed needlessly. Sitting on a crate, he used a wicked looking blade to peel potatoes out in the blazing sunshine and gentle breeze. A thoughtfully sly look edged upon his features that told Belle he had listened to all.

Belle stiffened, her face crashing down into the look of utter seriousness. "He interests me. You know how I can be when I see something that I haven't before."

If she had a weakness, curiosity certainly would have been the chink in her icy armor. Too many times had she nearly faced death because of her curiosity and now was no different.

At least, that's what she told herself.

"Pah he's just a spinner," lazily countered the cook as he peeled skin after skin with too expert a hand.

Defense arose in Belle like a small ember blow into life by the breath of injustice. That's what they all said; he was merely a spinner or a prisoner. "He's not. He's very bright and knows much for his lack of courage and speaking. He's a contrast from what is seen on the in and what is on the out. I've never seen anything like that before."

"That so?" Silver smiled cleverly and continued his work. Each white potato fell into his bucket as he worked and thought and thought and worked. "I hope you're not losing sight of what he's here for," he remonstrated finally with a soft chuckle.

Belle scowled darkly, her azure orbs glinting fire. "He's here for whatever I want him here for," she replied stalwartly. "Remember who is captain here."

Grunting, the cook languidly waved a fat hand. "Here now all old Silver is telling ye to be is careful."

"Of what, precisely, Mr. Silver?" she ground out sharply. Without waiting for a reply or fear to hear one, the beauty rigidly stomped off to the wheel.

Shaking his silvering head lightly, the cook snorted softly at the injustice of it all. "Poor lass, she don't even see."


	9. Be A Man

"She wants you for what?" Bae asked in astonishment as his father finished relaying where he planned to be for the evening.

The murky dimness of the crewmen's quarters hid the nervousness almost eternally stamped upon Rumpel's visage. His fingers tapped nervously over his crutch as though keeping in rhythm to some mute beat to wariness. He had thought to forgo telling his son altogether, but he had been caught trying to clean himself up a bit and he had only once ever lied to his son.

Carding his swollen digits through his dirty brown hair, Rumpel flinched with the weighty effort and sighed helplessly. "Bae she's the captain. I can't refuse her anything or our necks will be stretched out for nothing," he explained, hoping his boy would see his reason. Placing his hands to his chest he tried to make his boy understand. "If she asks for me what can I do? Nothing son."

"You never try, papa." Bae curled his small hands into tight, angry fists that seemed to bind his rage within his palms. "All you say is yes captain, no captain, sorry captain. You're always so _afraid_. You never want to take a risk."

Rumpel dipped his head in incomparable shame, his long brown hair fanning over his haggard face. Pains swelled mightily down to the deepest reaches of his soul. How he hated for his son to think him a weak coward. "Now son…." He scrambled bashfully for the right words.

"Why can't you just have a heart and be brave! Every pirate here is braver than you and all pirates are cowards!" he spat miserably. A scoff of utter disdain spat from his lips at his fathers inability to stand up for himself.

Twisting around, the sullen boy went off to do some task he had lined up for him. Anger for and at the world all about him coiled like a venomous adder in his brave heart. He hated to be a prisoner, and he hated his father bowing to their every demand. Was life truly better to be held prisoners and always frightened than to be brave and free even by the end of a sword?

Left alone in the darkness, the spinner felt the weight of shame nearly drag him to the messy floor. Leaning against the ribbed wall of the ship, he stalwartly pushed back the tears that threatened to spill down his sallow cheeks and gathered himself to meet the captain.

His son would see one day, he hoped. And then, thank him for what he had done and everything that had to be endured.

The sun was a red, fiery pearl dropping grandiosely into the water by the time dinner was ready. A few thin clouds burned in the haze of the feverish crimson star that slowly sank to allow the darkness rule. The water looked almost replaced with blood in the light and Rumpel almost felt his own souls essence added to that flood of ruby that buoyed the vessel.

Vapidly walking across the deck to the captain's quarters, he took his time trying to settle himself. If the woman saw the grief on his face no doubt she would be curious and he would have much rather kept their family squabbles between them. That at least he could keep.

Trying to shake the thought from his mind, he scanned the deck. A few crewmen were still puttering about doing odd jobs best done before the morrow or whiled away times with private thoughts that none dared know. Some stood around talking in hushed, conspirator's tones or joking aloud about some bothersome subject.

Only Gaston stood by the wheel. His stony eyes bored into the mild spinner like a cat that had just spotted a timid mouse. If possible his hate had soared since the entire incident that had nearly killed both he and their captain. Another chance had escaped him to endow pain upon the pitiful captive, something altogether unheard of in his vile life at sea.

"Cripple," Gaston suddenly barked, his voice laced with distaste.

Rumpel started in surprise at the snapping ferocity in which the cruel name was called. Gaston only called him when he was needed for some humiliating labor and with all the work mostly at an end there was nothing to be done, even if he had not been invited to the captain's quarters.

Dipping his head frightfully, the spinner limped closer to the wheel. "S...sir?"

"Shouldn't you be hiding somewhere in the dark?" he taunted gruffly with a sinister chuckle. A cruel, sadistic smirk carved through the handsomeness of his face. Like the ale and grog in the hold, he enjoyed all too much and all too often the bulling he aimed towards the cripple.

Shaking his head nervously, Rumpel dared crane his head up to the wheel. "No… the captain called me to her quarters," he explained pathetically, hoping to lure Gaston into letting him be. The name of the captain had worked before to get him out of situations where even Gaston knew nothing good would come about keeping the captain waiting for so long.

"You don't have a tray. Did you manage to lose that so swiftly from the galley, stupid?" He barked in loud merriment as he steered the wheel.

A weed of smugness grew through the frightening cracks of Rumpel's heart with the real knowledge. Though he wasn't sure what Belle wanted him for he knew Gaston wouldn't be pleased with anything that involved the "cripple" and the captain. "No," he replied softly, though firmly proud. "She's invited me for dinner."

"You!" growled the boson and clutched the wheel tighter. Dark blue veins bulged out from his weather scarred hands. For an irreconcilable instant rage enveloped his face, transforming the handsomeness into an ugly and brutish amalgamation of beauty. He looked almost as though he would leap from the wheel and crush the man to nothing but a smear of blood and skin upon the deck.

Forcefully hiding his anger though none too well, a false gust of laughter billowed from his hulking frame. "Oh so now she favors you does she? Every captain has their pets. I suppose she's found hers!"

"Or she's grown tired of her monkey," Rumpelstiltskin muttered sullenly under his breath as he began to turn away. Gaston was the mindless manic that followed her every whim. If she wished him to leap from the crows nest to a pool of sharks he would have done so willingly.

Instantly, the cruel humor in Gaston abated. He knew not what Rumpel had said but he knew something about him had been spoken in that low pitch. Anybody with half a brain could have guessed such and even more could have guessed his words were far from complimentary.

Leaning a bit over the wheel, he stared down from his perch. Without waiting for clarification, without thought, the boson was at the spinners face in half a heartbeat. Murder enveloped his striking visage with darkness unknown to the humble spinner.

Rumpel had only a moment to dance a step away, not nearly far enough, before the fist of Gaston hurtled painfully into his face. A dull, bloody thump of knuckles to face seemed to echo through the air like a bulge to the pirates. Those who had been minding their own turned to view the spectacle. Cries and cheers rang out, drawing those who were too far away like flies to the fight.

A cry rent from Rumpel's lip as the fist smashed into him. The iron tang of blood burst fresh in his mouth, giving him the disgustingly sickening taste of his ichors. Stumbling back, he fought to retreat from the brute, but his weak leg betrayed him. Agonizing pain shot through his limb as the appendage gave way. The deck seemed to come up hard to meet the poor spinner as he fell flat on his back.

Immediately, like some dastardly shark, Gaston was upon him. Circling his prey he aimed a few kicks to the man in his wounded leg. "What did you say about me!" he roared, accentuating each word with a cruel blow.

Awash with pain, Rumpel curled in on himself like some bug burnt in the sun. His arms, like gangly sticks, rose weakly as he tried to defend his body from all angles and yet failed with every writhing attempt to shield himself. "Nothing!" he swore, too concerned with his life to speak an inking of truth. "I said nothing!"

"Liar," Gaston snarled, his lips pried into an ugly animal like sneer. "You think you can get away with anything with our captain favoring you!" His boot came down on the long ago injured shin, and how the spinner howled at that! Bruises of blue and black already began to form upon his body. A wicked smile of satisfaction drew over the boson's lips. "We all see how she goes to find, you searching you out like you had left the ship. Maybe we should just get her a whistle so you can come with ever she deems to have her little pet nearby!"

A whimper of pain fled Rumpel as he lay as helpless as an upended turtle upon the deck. Part of his mind was astounded by Gaston's words. How could they say she favored him! He hadn't done anything special nor had she.

To be sure, the confusing thought only flashed through his brain as the boson dealt another horrid blow to his unprotected body. Another howl arched from his lips as the systematic pain continued.

None came to his aid as the assault of Gaston carried on. Blow after blow to his head and limbs rained from above with no way to stop. Blood drained from his nose and mouth and gashes of torn flesh oozed over the rough deck.

Gaston laughed unpityingly down upon his victim. Blood splatters flecked his umber boots telling of the grief he caused. "Well spinner, go on say it. Say you're the captain's pet!"

Spitting out dark blood the spinner twisted and writhed as he sought to speak over the blood steeped thickly in his throat. "I…." He coughed up blood, unable to breath well much less form the words.

A terrifying thought surged in him that he was going to die there. He couldn't speak the words if Gaston kept beating him, but Gaston would still beat him if he didn't speak. Truly the entire thing was one unfortun-

"You stay away from my Papa!" Bae's voice screamed out from the encircled crew.

The crew seemed to make way eagerly for the lad to try his hands in beating Gaston. Cries arose for the new opponent that had entered upon the battle. Their blood lust to see gore and battle had not abated by Gaston's one handed trump over one cripple. They wanted a challenge, not the senseless beating of Rumpel.

On Bae charged, his small body, wiry from work attacking the brute Gaston. Quick as any ship rat he jumped on the brutes back. His stick arms hewn with sinew from days of long toil, wrapped in a furious vice around Gaston's thick neck.

Taken aback by the ferocity, Gaston stumbled back. His corded arms swung back to try and peel the lad off of him. "You little mite," gurgled Gaston, his breath barely suffering through Bae's hold. "I'll beat you into rags!"

Through every threat Bae held fast. His nails dug into the boson's sun tanned flesh, bringing springs of blood, as he hung like a limpet to the burly man. He was not going to get away with beating his father, he swore with all the fire a boy could know.

Darkness swam in Rumpel's blurry visions as he got a moment's abatement from the savage assault. His dark brown orbs searched the commotion for what had wrought the slim mercy.

His gaze swayed sickeningly with the ship. The colors of the sun dipping low and the gaudy pirates wear blurred like smears of paint to his vision. Searching the tumult his eyes caught the sight of a small thing hunched atop Gaston, the smallest thing on the ship.

Bae.

"Son," Rumpel croaked whisperingly through ichors stained dips. His boy had jumped into save him, but at what peril?

Gaston was still a veteran fighter. Bae could only last so long against such a formidable opponent. Even now he could see the boson trying to make way to a mast. No doubt he would try to smash Bae there like some tough shell to hard for hands alone to crack asunder.

Rage such as he had never known filled the bruised body of the spinner. His son would not be met with pain or death on his account. An irascible ire billowed in him, filling his burning veins with a conflagration of utter hatred.

Sitting up dazedly on elbow he thought fast through the darkness encroaching. He couldn't stand a chance of fighting the man back, but strength was not all one needed. As the boson lumbered about trying to make way to the mast and shake Bae, the spinner acted.

Bloody hands grasping his staff, the cripple shot the crutch through the boson's legs.

A cry of surprise gasped from Gaston's almost cyanotic lips as he lost his balance. His large body rocketed to the deck and down he fell as hard as some marble stone statue had taken a spill.

High on his success, drunk upon seeing the boson brought down, his eyes barely fluttering, Rumpel began to move. Pain lashed his entire body, every nerve screamed on fire from the movement but move he did. His arms and legs wobbled until he found his feet.

Taking his crutch in his blood slick hands, the spinner limped over vapidly to the felled boson.

Bae scampered off the brute back as his father drew near. His dark brown curly hair fell rebelliously over his sweat stained brow like a curtain as he looked at his father. His breath came out in excited gasps but confusion gleamed in his eyes for what he saw upon his father was nothing he had ever seen before.

Ignoring his son, the son that had possibly saved his life, the spinner stopped at Gaston's side. He loomed over the brute, his shadow the only darkness in the blood rays that morbidly painted the deck.

Only his heavy pained breathing filled the air as he looked down at Gaston before he moved. Raising his crutch high above his head, the spinner brought done the gnarled wood viciously upon Gaston's back.

The brute grunted like the boorish ox that he was as the staff rained down upon him. His body flinched but he did not rise.

Breathing coming like billows, ecstatic that the brute had not arisen, Rumpel repeated the action. His staff raised high above his head before he let the limb crash down upon the boson. Rage and glee filled his umber eyes as the staff connected brutally to back. With every strike, the body jerked in fitful spasm of aghast pain against the spine.

Gaston clawed helplessly on his belly, unable to crawl away from the pain. Not even a plea for clemency escaped his lips.

Bae watched in horror as the blows steadily slammed into Gaston. What he had hoped to feel to see the pirates maimed and tortured in his head turned to horror before his eyes. He wanted justice and perhaps more, yes, but he had never expected, hoped his father to be the proprietor of such torments.

"Papa," Bae stammered tenuously as though speaking to a stranger.

Ghastly smile of satisfaction upon his lips, Rumpel pointedly ignored his son. He would show him just how much of a man he could be.

"Papa stop!" Bae called again, his voice cracked with terror. This wasn't his father.

Eyes stapled to the form of Gaston, Rumpel huffed a bloody laugh. "Oh I will son." He accentuated very word with a blow. "Right. After. He. Stops. Breathing."

Oh yes, he would stop once the corpse was sent to the bottom of the sea. What a pleasant though that was to be!

"Rumpelstiltskin," another voice, calm as a placid lake and understanding as a wise owl entered upon his blood lust.

A muscle jerked in Rumpel's face as his name was called. She had called him and he felt the heaviness of the entire encounter fill his body. The exuberance and adrenaline that had coursed through him seemed to evaporate, lured away with her voice.

Slowly the blows stopped coming over the body of Gaston. Slowest and slower, like some old threshing machine worn from over use, the staff hit softer and softer until no longer did the blow heavily rain upon Gaston's beaten body.

Holding the crutch in one hand, Rumpel stared at what he had done. Revulsion seeped into him mingled with the clarity of his actions. There laid Gaston, alive, but barely, beaten and bruised, from his head to his legs. Glossy crimson blood pooled under his head and his breaths came in ragged sharp gasps.

Vapidly, Rumpel turned. His crutch slipped lower and lower until the end dragged over the bloody deck like some primordial club. His blurred eyes found the beauty standing at her cabin door. His brown dots eyed her up and down for one moment more before the crutch slipped from his blood slicked hand and darkness claimed his collapsing body into peaceful, dark unconsciousness.


	10. Aftermath

Darkness swam dizzyingly in Rumpelstiltskin's murky mind as he became aware of himself once more. Eyes still closed, he drifted between the black realms of consciousness and bleakness. He was awake but swamped in unfathomable darkness that seemed to hold him under to drown.

Images of the day he had been entrenched in pain and those that had long come before swirled mystically amidst the dense whitish blue fog of his head. Flashes of Gaston and Belle and Bae all mixed in his mind and shredded away like smoke. Their voices called him, chided him, and asked things that he could not formulate a reply past the lump in his throat.

"_Spinner_…," the ghostly voice of Belle called him softly.

The boisterous voice of Gaston growled, "_Crippled pet_!" His face ghosted by in a terrible smear of angry red.

"_Why can't you be brave, papa_?" Bae's pleading face, his soft brown eyes wide with the shame a boy shouldn't know stared directly into his soul. The despondant lack of hope or pride burned brighter than the hottest of fires and stung worse than the blows of the giant Gaston.

Body twisting as though trying to fight his way out of the murky slough of slumber, the spinner fought vainly to escape the faces that assailed him. Despair and fear claimed his sleeping face as he muttered explanations to his son. "I was son… I was…."

"I think the lads coming to," a voice, sharp and clear proclaimed from the other side of the dream world.

Like an old path, Rumpel stumbled and crawled in his mind as he followed the voice. Slowly the darkness shred away as his eyes fluttered open. Once he came awake he found himself still lying on his back but he was no longer under the red setting sun but in a finely made cabin.

Red sheets snugly wrapped him and warmed him in a way he only remembered vaguely on land. Soft goose feather pillows propped up his head and something cool was put over his brow though he couldn't tell what.

Above him the scarred, rotund face of Long John Silver smiled down upon him and to the left of the garrulous cook sat Belle. Her soft sapphire orbs stared thoughtfully at him as though trying to discern something hidden beneath his skin. The cold sternness of her face was absent but instead there was a soft neutrality there almost in… relief.

"Captain." Rumpel shakily tried to sit up, his weathered features contorted into a grimace. "Where's Bae?"

Silver lightly placed a bloody hand on Rumpel's bare chest, forcing the spinner back down with incredible ease. He could have sent a strong burst of wind the cripples way and the he would have toppled like a leaf.

Looming over the once more resting spinner, the garrulous cook gave a great laugh. "Oh ho, hold on ye killer yer not in any position to be goin' anywhere now," he explained and with a false sniff offence he turned to Belle. "Now how do ye like that me ladyship? Here we are watching after the poor lad, nursin' him like a couple of priestess and here he is hollerin' about his boy."

"Your son is fine, Rumpel," Belle affirmed gently. "No harm has come to him and I dare say he's a good deal better off than he was all these few days ago."

Bae had earned major accolades from the crew for his actions. They had started treating him better and calling him "fire" for how he had fearlessly jumped upon Gaston and nearly choked the man to death.

Head swimming from the sudden acting of trying to sit up and being pushed down, Rumple merely turned his head to look at them. Astonishment filled his russet orbs. "D… days?" he stammered confusedly. The way he felt Gaston's beating had only been a few hours before.

How long had he been lost to the realm of unconsciousness? How was he not dead? Certainly Gaston's beating had left some major damage. Why did he feel only weak and a little stiff?

"You were out for quite some time," Belle affirmed with a slight nod. "We weren't sure you'd come through. Gaston had beaten you pretty badly."

Silver beamed proudly, his eyes nearly invisible by his plump cheeks. "Thanks to me ye lived and a good thing too! I'd hate to lose me reputation as ship doctor," he proclaimed proudly, his face near glowing.

"I don't know how he brought you through but he did." Belle rolled her eyes, the most comical thing the cripple had seen Belle ever do. "He's going about calling himself that now - ship doctor."

Looking warily from Belle to Silver, Rumpel nodded strenuously. "My thanks." A lump lodged tightly in his throat in gratefulness to the cook. He could have been dead; his son could have been like he was at so young an age, alone and without one friend in all the world.

"Think nothing of it." Silver lazily waved a hand and offered a perfunctory grunt. He was unused to praised. "I couldn't loose me another assistant."

"And your son knows you're all right," Belle supplied as though reading the lines mysteriously traced over his heart. Certainly, she concluded that would have been the next question on his lips. "He's sat with you all these four days along with time between myself and Silver."

"Four days!" disbelief marbled Rumpel's features. Four days he had lain unconscious at the hands of Gaston.

Silver tried to look like some sort of sagely healer. Shaking a plump finger at the spinner he growled, "And it'll probably be another four until ye're cleared to walk again, lad. Orders of the ships doctor."

"Yes doctor," Belle sighed dramatically and waved a hand at the cook. "Now go see to your other patient. I need to talk to Rumpel alone."

Grunting, the portly cook nodded assent and began to take his leave. "Right, right, sad old Gaston needs to be poked to see if'n he's still alive. He's as glum as a shark with no teeth he is!"

As the garrulous cook left a comfortable silence fell over the pair. Awkwardness did not hold either, only the gentleness of relief. There seemed to be for the moment at a place where they were simply glad they could speak again in private.

Leaning back in her chair, Belle crossed her arms over a gray sea coat and stared at him. Just when she thought she had him figured with ever portion of him marked out he produced an entirely new facet to him that blindsided her. She had not thought rage could live in such a timid creature such as Rumpelstiltskin.

When she had seen him striking Gaston she had first been rocked… then she had wanted to cheer which was odd, considering her history with the boson. She should have broken in when the boson was getting maimed but she had only spoken the spinners strange name until the very edge where Gaston should have been slain. Even then... Shaking her head she refused to think on that subject.

"Why'd you do it, Rumpel?" Belle inquired sedately, curious only. Certainly she couldn't be angry at him. He had taken so much from Gaston all the cruel jabs and taunts and curses along with every demeaning physical chore and strike from his hand. No one could blame him for acting how he did, but that was not Rumpelstiltskin. He did not give into that sort of blood lust so easily.

Fear crept like the hand of death over his face. His lower lip quivered as though he would have burst into tears at any moment. "I... I don't know why really. I was angry..."

"That was more than anger," she pointed out astutely. "Had no one stopped you you would have killed him while he was down."

Rumpel stared into her eyes as though enthralled there. How could he relate what he did not even understand in his own heart. "He has tormented me since I arrived. Coward that I am I saw him down and took the opportunity." A tear escaped his shimmering brown depths. "Do you know what that's like? To live in fear everyday and to finally see your tormenter before you, helpless, and feeling every ounce of rage just surge up into an explosion of power. To see someone who curses you and hates you at your mercy, do you know the euphoria? I couldn't help myself."

Silently Belle listened, enraptured by the words that spilled not from his mind but from the very depths of his heart. He had so long nursed his cowardice and hatred, he had probably dreamt of Gaston taking what was coming to him. Could she blame him? Certainly not. On the contrary she felt for him. She felt for every emotional word that spewed.

Flicker his glance away nervously, the spinner fought for words. "I'm sorry I fought one of your crew… please understand." How he prayed she would understand.

Did he think she would be cross, she wondered with a hint of amusement? "Gaston never did know how to stop taunting. He had what was coming." Gaston was a bully and a brute. For sometime he needed to be reminded he was just a man as even the lowest were.

Brightness glittered hopefully in his orbs. "So… so you're not angry?" he asked tenuously.

Belle tossed her dark amber head. "No not angry." She smiled lightly as he breathed in relief. "But you did break a rule."

Wary breath hitched tightly in his throat with the sudden knowledge. He felt his abject relief get morbidly snatched from under him leaving him sprawling back down into a dark chasm of pain. Fumbling for words he tried to plead his case, "But… but I had to defend myself."

"You're still a prisoner," she corrected promptly though not cruelly. Sighing, the beauty stood and turned away from the injured captive. True he had wanted to defend himself, but Gaston was crew and he was a prisoner taken in a raid. He couldn't, even if Gaston had attacked him, reciprocate in kind.

"And I have no rights," he muttered bitterly with the injustice of his erroneous fate. Everything he had done was for naught then.

The beauty's lips quirked into a smirk. "I didn't say that, nor did I say the punishment would be harsh."

Looking away to the window she felt at odds with herself. A part of her wanted to maintain her strict rules. Had any other prisoner done such a thing they would have been hanging from the mast flogged to unconsciousness. But not Rumpel. No that thought had immediately been dashed. Rules or no she would not see the man who had endured so much be succumbed to that fate. "Our last stop before we get to Regina's will be a port in the Southern Kingdoms in a few days. I'll let your son off there, guarded of course, for a little more freedom. It should do him good. Your punishment will be to stay aboard." To sweeten the deal she added, "You'll hardly be in shape to go for a jaunt through the port anyway."

"And with one of us confined to the ship you make sure we don't escape," Rumpel concluded cleverly though not angrily. How could he possibly be angrily with such a light punishment?

Belle nodded laconically and turned back to him. Her lips curled into a clever grin which seemed reserved only for him. "Very bright of you, Rumpel. Yes. This way I know your son won't run off and I can tell the crew I have still clung to my rules." She lowered her breath. "A light as your punishment was."

He was getting off with little more than a hand slap Rumpel knew; no small favor from the captain. Relief once more filled him with the punishment that wouldn't affect him much at all. She had done something to take the burden of pain off him, but why, he wondered? Was Gaston not her boson, the very second in command?

Confusion swam drearily in his eyes as he tried to wrap his thoughts around the matter. But now, knowing he and his boy were secure, knowing that there would be no heavy repercussion he felt the weight of the little energy he had flitter away.

"I see you're still tired," Belle discerned, mistaking his confusion for fatigue. After all he had just lived through a terrible beating. Looking down mildly upon him her voice seemed almost sweet. "I'll let you rest now."

"Wait…." Without thinking the spinner stretched out his hand. His knotted fingers curled over her slender wrist, keeping her there a moment. Her wrist felt like a bird's bone, fragile and tender under his calloused digits.

Belle's eyes fell to his hand and almost immediately, the spinner relented as though he had touched something poisonous. What had made him grab her so? What made him think he had the right?

A brow arched, the beauty flickered her azure gaze back his way. "Yes?"

"Gaston said you treated me different," he voiced uncertainly too far gone to stop. The question had bothered him a bit at the time though he had been too endowed with the agonizing pain to even consider the thought for very long. Now alone, he felt the question tumbled freely from him. He was getting a slap on the wrist for what he had done. Did that not give some validation to him?

Did she treat him differently? He didn't feel so, but perhaps that was because he had always been treated as such by her.

A displeased frown lined her lovely face. Silently she eyed him sternly, her eyes cold as glacier peaks. So Gaston had noticed. Though amusing she had to wonder, did her time with the spinner make him feel jealous? But why would he be jealous of a prisoner? Why did he think he was warranted to be jealous of anything?

Rumpel averted his head in shame. "I'm sorry. Foolish to say. I don't know what made me ask."

"He's right," she admitted without hesitation. The strange tenderness she seemed to posses only for him traced her voice. Abruptly, she laid a hand over his and gave a comforting squeeze. "I do." She couldn't deny that, not ever.

Confusion furrowed his weathered brow into worried creases. "You… do?"

So he saw something different? Gaston saw how she treated him and that infuriated him? Was that why he was the thorn to prod his ire?

"H… how?" dared ask the cripple, his lips nearly numb with the shock, his hand almost hot under hers.

A smirk curved clever over her lush pink lips. Lifting her hand she backed away as she spread her arms out. "Look around you, Rumpel. Do wounded prisoners take up captain's quarters?"

The shock of the revelation rocked him more than her hand holing his own. His eyes darted about suddenly as he located the very place he laid. Yes, the place was Belle's very own cabin!

"But why?" he pursued drowsily despite his shock. Darkness beckoned him again, coaxing him to sleep off his injuries and weariness.

Turning away, the beauty heaved her shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not quite certain myself. I feel like you could be of use to me, Rumpel." Yes, use, she voiced to herself, that was all. "Gaston wasn't wrong when he said you were favored but don't let that go to your head. My favor only reaches so far."

"And what," he paused as a jaw cracking yawn overtook him, "Happens with that favor runs out?" His eye lids fluttered slowly as she became a dot then a blur then nothing to his sight.

Turning away, Belle worried her bottom lip. What would happen she did not know for her soul told her that she would never not find favor with the man who was just as riddled with a thousand facets as she.

She need not have answered him though for he was fast asleep with nothing more than her on his mind and the port that would arrive on the horizon.


	11. What Lives Inside

The next few days passed with relative calm as they made way to the last destination before coming upon Regina's feast - the Southern port. For the first two days of the venture Rumpel had stayed recuperating fitfully in Belle's cabin. In his recovery, she had been a grand host.

They talked amiably, almost fondly, when she wasn't in the midst of writing down her meticulous log or mysterious charters. Lying there in bed, her bed, the spinner observed her critically whilst she worked through the days. She was immaculate but graceful. She was diligent and studious. When she was deep in concentration her rebellious tendrils of warm chestnut hair would skirt about her features in a way that prodded the urge in him to brush the curls from her face and run his fingers against her porcelain skin.

They were inappropriate thoughts, yes, but he could not stave them off so easily. All too often his thoughts drifted into places where they shouldn't have dared go. She stole into his thoughts like her ship stealing upon his heart and he could not help but be commandeered day after day.

The other two days were used to get his strength back. Slowly he began to shuffle about and move his stiff muscles too long languishing from his beating by Gaston. He was dizzy at points but every day was getting better. Silver and Belle estimated he'd be ship shape a day after leaving the port. At least well enough to move around the entire ship and find an easy sleep in his hammock.

That day, his final one in her cain, was only one day away, Rumpel noted pleasantly as he stood on the deck. The normal swaying of the ship was bereft as the _Rose_ only bobbed at anchor. They had finally made their way to port and were situated in the grim dock.

The port sprawled out before him in a filthy maze, but he scarcely felt an inkling of desire to hobble down to land. Looking out he was almost glad he wouldn't leave. The town was a filthy little thing made of stone almost green with slime and seaweed and all other refuse of the sea. Stone made most of the buildings and those that weren't sagged and twisted with the warped, salt encrusted wood.

All in all, the place was hardly anywhere any good soul was wont to visit. He felt little compunction to be in such a place. All his concerns and fears and wants rested on his son. The captain had approved his going to shore and Rumpel had not the heart to deny his boy the wish to feel land again.

"Now Bae remember to stick with Jefferson," Rumpel reminded his son as he shuffled a few feet from Belle's cabin door. Worry and relief vied for domination across his haggard features. He was glad his son was having a bit of time for himself but equally as worried about him.

The southern port or so the pirates had bragged, was one of the toughest places about. There amidst the stench of fish and the moldering old ruins of a once great city, dwelled the roughest men and women who had ever set foot on land or sea. They were murders and thieves but they looked after one another, or at least most of them.

Still, his boy had been slowly going stir crazy and he wanted Bae to stretch his legs and amble on land a bit before they delved further to wherever they were headed.

One eye eagerly on the gang plank leading to the slimy stone dock, Bae nodded absently and spared a brave glance at his father. "I will, Papa," he promised and with a quick hug went off between Jefferson and Silver for a first day in a very long time on land.

A fond smile weakly crossed Rumpel's lips as he watched his son disappear into the busy docks of rough pirates and coarse outlaws that looked for a cold ale and a pretty girl to set upon their laps. He had grown somewhat on the months they were at sea. His boyish youth remained but with a limber, sinewy side to him. His hair was lightened into a purer umber while his skin had darkened, tanned by the prestigious sun. He was growing into a man who would strong and powerful.

Sighing lightly the spinner limped wearily back to the bunk of Belle. His effort in bidding his son a quick goodbye had been avidly taxing on his body.

Letting the crutch fall he slipped back into the bed but sat upright. Impertinent envy slightly pricked him that his boy would feel land under his feet again, but the moment soon washed away with the last of his strength. Such a small price to pay wasn't worth a pittance of his jealously.

"Mr. Silver and Jefferson will keep the boy safe," Belle stated primly as she entered her cabin.

A cloudy green bottle loosely held in one hand, she closed the door with a slight bump of her hip and waltzed further inside. Her steps ambled to her glass decanter where she plundered two fine crystal tumblers from the glass platter and carried them away with the bottle in her hand.

Surprise mottled Rumpel's visage at the sudden entrance of the captain. He was used to seeing her regularly, but in port.…. "Captain?" the title came out like a question. "You're not going to land?"

He had not even doubted that she would be leaving the masts and decks she had commanded so long. Surely she had wanted a few days off the ship as well to do… whatever people as she did.

"Someone has to keep you company," a slight chuckle prevailed through the neutrality that seemed to lighten to a mere polite façade when only he was about. "I can't let my spinner commandeer an entire ship all by his lonesome."

Truth be told, she had never been comfortable on land for many a year anyway. Silver mostly did the business if they docked into port. She had no inclination to speak to anyone or let the eyes filled with ridicule sting her valiant hide. Better to stay on ship, and now she even had an excuse and company t belay the groaning and coaxing of her crew.

Rumpel dipped his head bashfully. "Thank you… I'm honored." She didn't need to while away her hours with him, but she chose to. Hardly could he believe that impossible turn for who would want to spend time with a coward and prisoner alike?

"No need. My men usually see a time in port as a holiday." She drew up a small, three legged mahogany table and a chair next to the bed. "I couldn't let us miss out on the bit of fun."

"Fun?" the spinner chuckled lowly, his lips curved into a true smile at the thought of the word coming from her.

Placing the two crystal tumblers between them, Belle struggled for the cork on the green bottle. "I can be fun," she protested with a slight smile as she worked to loosen the stopper. Most simply did not see her other side because she had to have a tight reign on the crew besides for other instances that had mangled her life. Hardness was something she knew. She was comfortable with being stern and strict and assiduous.

But there were times….

"I don't doubt that for an instant," he replied truthfully, his voice gentle. He had always seen a certain sparkle behind her cerulean eyes that had spoken of a lighter Belle. Or one that had been.

Struggling still with the cork, Belle looked up curiously to the mending spinner. Her eyes narrowed slightly as though trying to dissect some deeper meaning. The mission was in vain for not a hint of sarcasm or insincerity exuded from him. If he was trying to be cruel the taunt had flown far over her head. Instead she felt almost flattered.

Laughter lightly escaped her lips as she turned back to work with the stopper. "You'd be the first," she grunted good-naturedly as the cork finally popped.

Milky white mist oozed light from the chilled beverage down to the long neck as Belle looked at the bottle's faded brown label with pride. "My private stock," she announced freely and began to pour.

The red liquid, dark as freshly spilt blood, poured into both tumblers. At about a quarter of the way up she stopped the garnet flow, intent on savoring the bottle for a long time and not in a few hasty gulps.

Lifting up her glass, the beauty eyed the crimson liquid then darted her eyes over to the spinner. As he took up his glass a mischievously puerile smile graced her lush pink lips. "To fun," she toasted and held out her glass.

"To fun," the spinner chuckled in return.

The crystal clinked slightly in the toast before they downed the first go in easy swigs. As their glasses drained, Belle promptly filled them again just so as the room was filled with their easy chatter that seemed to come to them as naturally as drawing breath.

~8~8~

Greasy white fog rolled in ominously from the ocean covering the port like a deathly blanket or a moldering corpse. The mist was waist high to a small man and seemed to fill ever corner of the night and every niche of the dangerous paths of the small, slick streets. Only the cheery candlelight in dirty windows forbade the damp milky sheet, but those were few and far between on the dangerous dock.

The moon was hidden behind a murderous platoon of thick august clouds leaving the night as dark an vile as a witch's heart. Only the mist brought forth a ghastly radiance of mock purity to the blackness that promised light yet succumbed deeper darkness below the milky shroud.

In every superstitious heart and spine tingling terror, the night felt as evil as the souls that dwelled within the port.

Which was why the hour was perfect, Gaston knew, to plan for a murder.

To be sure he had not been intent on murdering Belle. He had had plans, but his pride and sense only went so far. What had been done could not be tolerated. What he had long suspected could not go unrequited. What he had seen, what he knew, could not be taken without bloody action to follow.

Garbed in a full length otter skin cloak, the pirate limped miserably through the old haunts of the port. The limp was from a bad blow the spinner had aimed at the back of his knee but the wound would mend.

Sorrowfully, though, Gaston frowned bitterly at the thought, not as soon as the spinners life would be taken. And if he played his cards right, that night would be the night his head would hang from the mast.

The cloudy night itself seemed to aid Gaston on his quest for vengeance for what had been done. A brisk cold wind stirred putridly and howled whisperers of death down the winding, small alleyways to guide him. Old, faded signs on rusted iron links creaked above him as though directing him to his destination. Only the bravest or stupidest of souls would have so valiantly dared to be out on a night as he was, but revenge makes a bolder heart than many know.

Iron fingers tightly clutching the edges of his sea coat the murderous pirate came upon a run down tavern on the very edge of the port. The tavern was a measly little thing that looked like a mass of rotting food on a tipped platter. The building looked half sliding from the slick algae ridden stones of the port into the sea. Rife with misuse, one had to wonder how the entire mean little tavern hadn't collapsed and killed everyone inside.

Gaston snorted in the chilled, wet air as he caught his breath. A plume of white vapors escaped him as he stalwartly braced himself and stepped inside the dim tavern.

On the inside the filthy tavern was little better than the out. The ceiling dipped dangerously from old broken rafter beams and was falling in at some places. The floor was un-even with the constant wet of people coming in and out and no place seemed bereft of blood splotches new or old. Unlike the other taverns run by former pirates who'd grown tired of a life at sea, the tavern he frequented was a mean little hideaway meant for the meanest of the mean.

The patrons were rough, haggard men and women running from the law in nearly every realm. They were pirates hated even by their ignoble kind and for good reason. Scum they were called and scum they were by every nefarious means.

Surly, beaten slave servers and patrons alike looked his way as he marched in but quickly turned to their own miserable business again. Only one man in a dark corner table, alit with only a single candle to display his silhouette, kept hisgaze and Gaston found his way to the small refuge.

Grunting painfully, he pulled up an uneven chair and nodded minutely from under the cowl of his cloak. "Blackbeard," he ground out in a subtle whisper.

The dreaded, dangerous pirate captain eyed him suspiciously from the darkness of the cowl. His fingers tapped nervously at a dagger by his side, ready to be pulled out and stabbed at the cloaked figure at a moments notice. "Do I know you?"

Gaston slowly leaned forward in the glow of the only candle on the table. His hateful eyes and the sight of his sturdy jaw easily gave away his person above the flicking, paltry light.

Leaning back, the pirate captain grunted peevishly at himself for being wary. "Gaston." He looked about quickly to make sure none of the other _Rose_ crew had found their way there. "What brings you here?"

"Information," Gaston replied blandly to the pirate captain.

Eagerness the wicked captain could scarcely veil gleamed like dark gems in his eyes. "What news then? Have you learned anything new?" his vice betrayed his excitement.

Gaston had been an informant of his for a long time. He paid the man well on information of Belle's doings and whereabouts for long years now. The way he saw matters he would let Belle do all the hard work and simply reap what she found.

"Plenty," Gaston promised steadily, his lips curved into a smirk. "But payment…."

A half frustrated sigh blew irksomely from Blackbeard's bearded lips at the contrivances of Gaston. Muttering a curse he dug into his red coat for a pouch of small gold coins. "I hope this will suffice for now." He casually laid the expensive sack on the table and pushed the money over to his informant.

"I don't want money, Blackbeard," snarled Gaston. He leaned further over the table, the cloak making him look the very inch the fabled shadow of death. "I want blood, captain. I want blood to run through my fingers. I want to paint the deck of the _Rose _with it. I want the ichors to drench the sea."

Brow arched curiously, the pirate captain retrieved the bag and tucked the small sack back into his coat. He had never before heard Gaston so blood thirsty. A curious thing indeed. "Well that may be able to be arranged. You just tell me what's happened now and who do you want killed that you can't do the deed yourself?"

"Belle's taken some wool spinner and his bastard son as prisoners. They've been aboard for a few months now." His hands curled into twin fists of fury. "She... There's something different about her now. It's that spinner."

Dark laughter erupted horribly from the pirate captain. Canting his head to the left, he smiled mockingly at Gaston. "Oh and you think he's encroaching on your lady?"

"I know he is," Gaston snarled, completely assured. "The way she looks at him, the way she talks to him." His face pinched enviously as though he had eaten something vile. She had once shared that with him.

Blackbeard shook his head, his long, knotted facial hair lightly swaying against his beer stained sea coat. "I suppose that's all the proof your tiny brain needs then?" He huffed a cruel chuckle at the unfortunate Gaston. "She's looking at him and you think there's something there?"

"That's not all," Gaston continued hatefully. "A few days ago we got into a fight, the spinner and I. I was about to put the disgusting little coward in his place when his child comes in to save him. He got the jump on me, I fell, half choked, and the man starts wailing away at me with a staff. We're both pretty banged up mind you after the fight ends. I wake up lying in the galley and she lets him sleep in her cabin to recover. Just as though he were her own flesh and blood. If that doesn't explain everything I don't know what does." He pointed a finger to the table as though drawing out where things laid. "He should have been in the brig to prepare to be killed, but no he's recuperating in her cabin and she didn't even come to see me, her betrothed. She chose him over me."

Listening intently, the captain finally nodded. "I can't say I know a lick about women but sometime the things they do…."

"Don't try to lecture me, Blackbeard," growled Gaston venomously, his tone a low dangerous hiss. "I know when something's over." Leaning his elbows on the table, he snorted furiously. "All these years after all we've been through together. Years…." Abruptly he slammed his fist on the table. "She was supposed to be my wife! Mine! Now…."

Blackbeard patted his hands in the air, futilely trying to calm the brute. "Easy now. You can't throw everything away over this."

"She _was_ my everything, Blackbeard." Gaston viciously tugged the cowl from his head. His eyes burned feverishly with heartbreak and revenge. "She was the entire reason I went to sea. So we could have our lives back. So I could have what taken from me and she could have hers again." His lips curled angrily. "But if she won't be mine, to the bottom of the deepest sea with her then. No one goes back on Gaston!"

The pirate captain shrewdly tossed his head. "Well now that's a problem for that goes against what I want. I need you to stick close to her."

Really he could have cared less about Gaston's broken heart or his murderous notions from the envy and vanity that went miles deeper than his ardor. All he wanted was what Belle wanted. After that he cared neither what happened to them.

"That's the best part," Gaston eagerly began to explain. "We're going to Regina's celebration after which we'll be going after _It_." he spoke the last word with almost a mystical reverence. "I've been her boson forever. I can get us there. I know what to do. I have everything you need now that she's all set. She has every last thing in order. The price for the information long ago is what we both wanted, Blackbeard but what I want has changed. I want her head to adorn the ship you help me take. After that I'll lead you to _It _and we'll both have what we want."

Black eyes of murder and heartlessness boring critically into the boson, the dreaded captain slowly leaned forward. "And you're sure that you can do this?" he asked, every inch the serious, murderous captain of his fame.

"May you peel the skin from my bone if I can't," returned Gaston with as much truth and intellect as his mind possessed. He could do that. He had spent to long with her, he knew everything she did.

Face a dark mask, slowly, frightfully, a malicious smile bloomed upon Blackbeard's filthy face.

~8~8~

"So when Bae was a little lad he had a penchant for getting into places no one else could go. One day he got into out neighbors bull pen and I couldn't find him for the life of me. I searched for hours until I heard some people laughing. I went to go see what had happened and lo and behold he'd gotten into the bull pen and a bull had scooped him up right by his tunic. He was small enough to simply be hanging there they the collar of his tunic! His arms were crossed and he looked angrier than the bull!" Rumpel heartily finished the tale.

Lurid laughter shuddered from his gangly body until tears streamed down his eyes at the unfortunate, but hilarious lesson learned by his young son. The story wasn't that particularly funny but with a half a bottle of the wine gone almost anything was enough to make them break out into a fit of innumerable gales of merriment.

Merry laughter chimed brightly from Belle as she leaned back into her seat. The notes so pure and free swirled about like the first wonderful flakes of winter snow. "I knew you had some stories to tell, spinner!"

Over the time they had fastidiously nursed the bottle she had encouraged him to tell some tales he knew. With a few drinks he told harmless ones, and by the halfway point on the bottle he was telling all the stories that would make young children angry or embarrassed at their parents for retelling.

Watching her laugh so free and easy, Rumpel felt his heart lightened. He liked this Belle, the open one, the easyone. The light, bright, shining Belle. From their small time before he began to tell stories, he learned that she loved books. Her passions were reading. She was brighter than he had even originally thought and they could talk on a level that many pirates would not know.

How she spoke to him, how eagerly the words flowed like they had been pent up forever as they sat their talking reveled yet another fascinating facet to the incredible woman. If he was right had she had spent so much time on sea, so much time without anyone to really talk to, part of her had to have been extremely… lonely.

With the thought, he smiled gently at her, his laughter fading with the strange warmth lodged in his heart. "Thank you," the spinner expressed abruptly.

Wiping the merry tears from the corners of her eyes the beauty sniffed lightly, and brought up the last of the wine in her cup. "For what?" she half chuckled, still amused by his tale.

"You didn't have to keep me company you know," He sobered seriously. Tenderness and gratefulness both mingled into his orbs. She didn't have to do anything for him. She did not have to let him recuperate in her cabin. She didn't even have to let him off with such a light punishment.

Slowly letting the cup fall a little, her face, dappled red from the fine wine, turned placid and thoughtful. "You would have been lonely," her voice tinged a trifle with sadness for she knew very well that feeling and would not have wished such pain on anyone.

"I'm used to that," he remarked dolefully and looked down at his empty glass. "And so are you," he risked nervously, unsure where the prick of gumption had come from to say such a thing aloud. "Or you wouldn't have been here," he quickly explained lest she take his words as an insult. If she wasn't lonely she never would have spent time with one such as him. She would have been out carousing with her crew.

He had a point there, Belle knew imperatively, not surprised in the least not by his spot on perceptions. She had been lonely. Lonely for a very long time.

Gaston was to have filled that void, but Gaston well… long ago she had thought her feelings for Gaston were genuine, but the loneliness hadn't ended. After spending so long a time with him, she knew she could not be happy with one such as he. Her heart knew that without any convincing.

The marriage that they were to have had would have been a distinct travesty. What would have started off well enough would have come to a place where she knew she did not truly love him nor did she want him as a husband. Now that she had spent years as his betrothed and he as her boson, years seeing who he really was, she had no inclination to marry him for he would never ease loneliness and he would never bring her love.

She had thought of telling him she would not marry him, but every time, she had thought she would see another side of him she would love. Until Rumpel...

Sniffing half drunkenly, she shrugged her shoulders and leaned down to grab the green bottle again. "Well you-"

"Belle!" the spinner screamed abruptly, his warm eyes pinioned fearfully to the cloaked man that had appeared as she had bent to grab the bottle.

Stumbling up instantly, her reflexes only slightly off, Belle turned to face the culprit, the betrayer. Her hand fumbled menacingly for her poniard just before an arrow was shot deep in her chest.


	12. Attack!

Horror filled Rumpel's cinnamon eyes as the body of Belle stumbled backwards and twisted to her right with the force of the arrows mark. A gasp uttered disbelievingly from her lips and her head snapped against the wall before she sank like a discarded doll to the cabin floor. Her hands, already flecked with blood wrapped about the projectile as though she could go back in time and rip the arrow out of her flesh.

The arrows shaft was lodged nearly a fourth of the way in her bosom. Blood pumped sluggishly from the wound staining her coat with her crimson essence. The white feathers fitted at the end still quivered like his frail heart.

How…. How was she dead so soon as he was just getting to know her? How could she be slain just like that? The wound was a fatal one he could see. There was no way the shaft had not pinned or ripped something vital in her body. Even then if something had not miraculously been missed, the blood spilling out would steal away her life.

"Belle!" a haggard scream erupted from his suddenly dry throat. Leaning over the bed, he stared incredibly at the body that had once been so filled with life and laughter a few precious minutes before.

All at one his world felt like a shards of glass thrust deeply in his sunken chest. One day, long ago when he was still a fresh prisoner filled with burning hatred he had hoped to see her dead and feel his stolen life requited. Now, the icy talons of dread and sorrow curled their needle tipped pins over his soul. He felt, he was absolutely sure, how he would have if Bae had been the one to perish with an arrow in his chest.

Laughter, dark and depraved spurted menacingly from the betrayers lips. Slowly, the man stomped inside and pulled down his dark cowl. The strong face of Gaston danced eerily in the battle of shadow and brightness. His unruly locks seemed to twist like sable snakes as he prowled inside to his two hated prey.

Eyeing the body then the prisoner, Gaston vapidly turned his hunters gaze and smiled cruelly at the spinner. His boots made soft, dull thuds across the cabin as he neared the horribly stricken man. "So here you are. The favored _pet_," the word rolled off his tongue like a disgusting taste. "Well now that your mistress is dead let's see what we'll do with you."

Letting the bow in his rough hands fall away with a sharp clatter, the boson drew a wicked knife from a hip sheath. The blade was as long as a grown man's hand and serrated sinisterly on one side. The bright steel gleamed terrifyingly in the light battling shades as Gaston loomed over the bunk.

Cruelty flashed freely across his handsome visage as the candles around him. In his eyes, all his hate was irascibly aimed towards the cripple. This was the cretin who had taken away his prize he had so long thought to have. This was the spindly little weed that had taken Belle. This was the man who had won against him and if he thought he would receive a quick death like the captain he was certainly wrong.

Looming like death's shadow over the spinner, the mad boson struck like a venomous serpent. His fingers gripped tightly over the collar of the cripple's ragged tunic. With one great heave, Gaston hauled the man up.

Face to face with Rumpel he snarled murderously at the terrified man. "Now let's just see what's inside this coward," he chuckled deviously and placed the tip of the knife at the upper edge of the cripple's jaw.

Tortuously, he pressed the blade with just enough pressure to bring forth a spurt of blood. The crimson waters oozed unwaveringly unto the greedy blade, tinting the gray steel with the vibrant color of his life.

A strangled cry of torment gurgled from Rumpel's lips as the keen edge sliced into his skin. The warmth of his blood drained unto the cold blade and chilled his heart with the knowledge of his imminent doom. Gaston was set to kill him but not before he took time to torture his helpless victim.

He would be dead if he didn't do something, he knew imperatively despite, or because of the searing flashes of pain. Injured or not he had to fight for his life.

Work worn hands flailing and struggling madly to find something, anything, he searched to gather any sort of resistance against Gaston. His legs pathetically kicked at him but to no avail. Back and forth and around his worn fingers searched vainly and tried to pry off the tormenter but nothing could dissuade the bulwark of a man.

At wits end, the spinner was nearly about to plead for mercy when, the tips of his digits caught the neck of the glass bottle on the table a little to the left of the boson.

Without a second thought, the spinner grasped the bottle for dear life. That would be his only hope. Bringing the glass up, he smashed the green bottle savagely against Gaston's temple.

Shards of green glinted in the dim light as the glass exploded into a thousand jagged shards. The neck crumbled into nothing but the tiny piece he held tightly in his hand, leaving the only weapon he had useless.

Gaston grunted dully as pain exploded against the side of his head. Spots of blue and black and green danced vividly in his eyes as wounds of glass opened in his skull. Only his infamously hard head saved him from death, but the blow was a sure one. Reflectively dropping the spinner and the knife, he clutched as his opened skull. Blood oozed from between his iron fingertips and matted his light brown hair into a thatch of gut wrenching gore. The spinner had scored a lucky hit on a head that was all too hard which momentarily left the boson reeling.

Dropped to the floor by the injured Gaston, a scream nearly tore from Rumpel's lips as he landed on his injured leg. Forcing himself to push the pain away, he kept himself aright for fear he would lose his momentary advantage. Gaston had been beaten back for a moment, but no more. Dropping the laughably insufficient bit of broken glass, the planning spinner clawed up the fallen knife like the gift of life.

The blood that dampened the blade wretchedly brought the wine back up in his throat but he dared not lose concentration. He might have been a coward but he was no fool. Gaston was far more trained in the ways of war than he. If his time in the wars had taught him anything, they had drilled into him never to let his opponent have a moments reprieve by thinking to have one as well.

Tearing his hands away from his head, Gaston stood tall again as the spinner wielded the knife. Dark blood oozed from his head, but his eyes were still afire with murder. His long hair, undone veiled bits of his face with long ebon tendrils that sat gummed by blood along his cheeks. He looked a primordial monster and so he very well seemed. "You just keep making things harder for yourself," he chuckled darkly and began again on his quest to end the spinner.

Stomping forward into a short run, he dipped low and grabbed the small wooden table that had once been between captain and prisoner. With a light heave he upturned the furniture to his advantage and the spinner's weakness. Taking the legs, he used the small table like a shield and rammed the cripple head on.

Unable to stop the moment, Rumpel was struck but the makeshift shield and all the power behind the wood. Breath whizzed out of his lungs in a flurry as the boson pushed the defense forward.

Unable to keep his balance with the shift of power, the spinner toppled back unto the bed. His entire body seemed to bend backwards as Gaston pushed his advantage. In his shift, the knife slipped from his clutches and that was all the boson needed.

Like lightening incarnate he dove for the blade. His strong hand plucked up the knife with incredible ease and with a quick turn had the spinner incapacitated.

Completely unarmed, all Rumpel could do was look up at his death. Fear liberally stapled his face as he stared wide eyed up at his killer. His body terrifyingly crawled further unto the bed as though he could escape, but the wall all too quickly pressed against him, reassuring his terror there was no way out.

Gaston smiled maliciously as he tossed the table away behind him. The old wood splintered and broke and Rumpel could only image his limbs about to go the same way as the panels and legs.

"I was always told a cornered rat fought desperately." Gaston wiped bits of foam from the corner of his mouth. He loomed over the spinner again, reveling in his victory like any hunter. "I didn't believe that until now. But all the fights gone out of you, cripple. Only your cowardly pig's blood remains. I'll make sure your son sees that when they return on the morrow. I'll let him see his dead papa as the sun rises. I want him to see all life and fight gone as he hangs dead and gutted from the mainmast with his own blood dripping in a pool below him and know that I did that to his father."

Terror washed immutably over Rumpel's features as his fate was learned. The man meant to put his son through such torments of seeing him dead. He meant to torture him there and then. He meant to do everything he had the first day he had wanted to slay him. Holding out an arm, he started almost hypnotically into Gaston's furious eyes. "Please," he shook his head lightly. "No… no please. I beg of you…."

"Well now I'm ashamed of ye, Rumble Bumble that aint the way for a cook's assistant to act," the ever jovial voice of Long John Silver broke through the clouds of terror like a ray of morning light that banished an all too real nightmare.

The voice seemed as though some father had come home to three children rough housing rather than two murders done by a traitor. If he noticed the still, dead Belle in the corner he never showcased the fact, nor the obvious betrayal of the boson before him.

Shocked, Gaston spun around as though a demon had spoken in his ear. Knife still clutched threateningly, the boson snarled hatefully at the cook. "You shouldn't be in here! Blackbeard sent along ten of his finest crew with me! Why aren't you dead old man!" he screamed to allay the shrinking pit in his gut.

How had Silver managed to board with no sound of a tussle? Where were those Blackbeard had sent to gain his payment?

"Too stubborn to die I suppose." A dangerous gleamed flashed in his old eyes. "Ye on the other hand.…"

In an inconceivable instance of a master fighter, the cook struck. Bringing up his left for an upper cut, he kneed the boson simultaneously in the groin. Other hand balled into a fist, he smashed his meaty hand into the side of his wounded head.

A howl erupted from Gaston as the pain over took him from every angle or so the pain felt. His entire body felt numb from the other blow to the head and the pains meticulously assaulted against his person.

Wobbling like a drunk, he fought barely to stand. He could barely move his arms, much less attempt to strike back at the always talkative cook.

Humming carelessly to himself, the plump cook grabbed the boson by the back of his tunic. Kicking open the cabin door, he dragged the mortally wounded man out to the deck.

Grabbing his crutch, Rumpel took one look at the body of Belle, his fount of pity and sorrow flowing for the woman and hastily followed Silver out. After the rescue he was wary not to stick with the cook dead captain or not.

Fog still encompassed the night but the lanterns of the ship helped beat back the milky shroud about the ship. On the deck the ten Blackbeard pirates lay still and dead face down on the wood. In the dreadfully thick mist, the crew of the _Rose _stood like shadows over the dead. Knives all rested in their hands and more than a few dripped the blood of the enemy.

Staring in dull, awe, Gaston looked up top the cook in slow horror. By the corner of his eyes he spotted a silver gleam in his peripheral vision and knew the cook had unsheathed a knife. Staring up, the former boson shook his head pleadingly. " You can't kill me I'm under Blackbeard's protection. He'll scour the seas for you and torture you all. Blackbeard won't tolerate this!" he gasped through tightly clenched teeth.

"Aye and neither do we!" Silver replied icily, his voice a dark sliver of hatred. "None of us care a lick about Blackbeard and his wrath. Ye came to commit treachery and ye know what the price is.…"

Without another word, the keen edge of Long John Silver's knife sliced a crimson smile on Gaston's throat.

A bloody gurgle weakly burbled from the traitor before the body went limp with his soul fled from his traitorous form.

Snarling in abject disgust, the cook coolly hauled the body to the port rail. Heaving the heavy form up, he menacingly tossed the useless carcass overboard. The large muscled body made a loud splash as the form hit the dark waters below.

Ten heavy splashes more followed leaving only the blood on the deck as testament to what had happened. The intruders had been soundly and soundlessly purged leaving only streaks of blood to tell the tale.

Fatigue finally shivered over Rumpel as the last body was hauled overboard to a lurid splash. The weight of the terrifying night seemed to press on his spindly body like the world. They were safe now, but oh at what cost?

"Bae…," he stammered fearfully to the cook, his heart terrified of any answer but ask he must. "Where's…."

Silver held up a corpulent hand to soothe his fears. "Calm yourself Rumble bumble. He's fine."

"Oh Bae…." The spinner wearily carded a shaking hand through his dirty brown hair. He was overjoyed his son was safe, but….His bottom lip quivered emotionally at the thought of the other that twisted his heart. "The captain…," the title choked like a boulder lodged in his throat. How could he possibly tell the crew? "Silver…. Belle… the captain she's…."

"The captain is fine," Belle growled out painfully from the cabin as she limped out only an inch from the door. "Injured but fine."

Twisting around so fast he nearly made himself fall, the spinner watched in awe to see her standing there. His eyes widened to mud brown pools as he stood their astounded as the sight of her. There she was. Her body leaned heavily against the door and she pressed a bit of her tunic she had sliced for a bandage to her chest but there was no arrow. Only her coat and the arrow were missing but she looked nearly the same as before.

Paleness from lack of blood made her seem like some ghastly phantom arisen from a watery grave, but she was so very much alive. The blood on the scrap of tunic proved that more than anything.

Limping forward numbly, Rumpel eyes her as though she were some ghost come to say goodbye. "That's not possible." His eyes roamed from her face to the wound. "I saw the arrow strike you…."

"The tip merely hit a keepsake I kept under my tunic. Luckily the force pushed me back and I struck my head which gave the illusion that I had died on the spot," she reveled primly, ever the cold, immutable, captain that not even death could phase. "The better question is…" She grimaced and pressed the strip of silk cloth harder to her wound "How you managed to save us in time, Silver."

She had thoroughly expected Gaston to take reign of the ship. She had expected him to take to his own course and ruin everything.

A hearty chuckle rippled over the waters from the cook. Holding his corpulent girth, he shook until tears popped out his eyes. "Ye call yer little incident lucky, cap'n, I bet we had the luckiest of the night yet! While a few of our crew were only a winnin' streak at dice. I though we might all do a little clebratin' on their good fortune. I ordered ales all 'round. Barrin' Rumpel's pardon I let our cabin boy try his first dose O' spirits. He had two drinks and was out like a snuffed candle I tell ye! Me and Jefferson were bringin' the lad back to the ship when we saw people aboard. Jefferson went back to fetch the crew and we ambushed the ambushers! Just in time too, for your little spinner won't holin' up so well he won't."

"He survived," Belle stated indomitably as though stating some plain fact. A hint of softness gleamed in her azure orbs at the fact before the wall of pain and sternness resurfaced. "Now I know you all were expecting a nice delay at port but if they were Blackbeard's men as Gaston said we need to leave. I won't lie when I say he has us out manned and outgunned by three ships. You have an hour to find any crew that's not here but other than that be prepared to set sail. Jefferson is boson now so if you have any questions ask him." She snorted miserably as she turned about. "I'll be trying not to bleed out."

A murmur of "ayes" muttered through the host of pirates as they prepared in the innumerable tasks to make sail.

Satisfied, Belle stumbled and limped back into her cabin to collapse, wounded but alive in her mussed bunk.

~8~8~

Darkness still lorded over the world as _The Forgotten Rose_ sneaked out in the early, early morn. The fog almost seemed to muffle their passing as they sailed out to sea again, this time headed for Regina's.

The crew had worked silently as death, knowing that their captain would not tolerate anyone who gave away their doings by vociferous means and loudness that could carry well over the docks. That was nearly as bad as the traitor.

The silence felt strange to Rumpel, so used to their garrulous chatter and shanties the mostly odd but well natured crew sang to pass the time. They were all somber faced and cold as the waters, each with their own private thoughts as they toiled with the efficiency Belle had dutifully ingrained in them.

Unable to do much with his injuries, the spinner walked down to the sleeping quarters. He had been eager to see his son, but Cook had had him doing what little he could do, and glad he was for that took his mind off of others things that had happened in the night.

Working was better than thinking of the moment his life had almost ended. So to was labor better than imaging the captain's body there on the floor.

Now, with nothing left to do but not get in the way, he maneuvered his way down to see his son. His crutch tapped loudly in the darkness as he found his way along the nest of hammocks.

His heart skipped in the darkness as a groan echoed out of the sleeping quarters. "Oh my head.…" Bae muttered in the early morning.

Had things not been so dire a few hours before the spinner might have laughed at the misery of his son. He would have been furious at any other time, but his boy had been spared the gore of the night by the drink. That was hardly something he could find ire against. "Well that's what happens when you have too much to drink," he reveled softly and limped down further through the darkness to his son.

A few gray speckles of dawn luminance glumly filtered in giving the quarters a bit of light to see by.

Bae's face was a pictogram of agony in the grayness. His eyes were clamped tight as he curled into a ball to hold his riotous stomach. He had never had a drop of alcohol in his life.

"I didn't think I did…. I…." the boy burped nauseously and curled in on himself like a dying snail.

The spinner chuckled as he leaned lightly on the hammock, careful not to move the thing to much least his son puke on the floor. "That's what they all say."

Though he hated to see his son in pain, the boy would survive he knew, and be better for the experience. He had learned a valuable lesson in having too much of anything.

"Papa I don't even remember drinking…" Bae groaned and lightly rubbed the side of his throbbing skull.

A small smile tipped Rumpel's lips. "The ale will do that to you, son. I hope you've learned your lesson."

Scrubbing at his face, the lad dared to sit up. His eyes squinted in the grateful blackness. "Where are we now, Papa?" Certainly he didn't recall getting back on ship or where they somewhere else?

"On the seas again, son." The spinner gently ruffled his dark brown curls with a fatherly fondness. "I know we were to stay longer but… issues came up. We're headed for that festivity."

Sluggishly nodding, the boy leaned back in his hammock. The rocking of the ship was soothing, prompting him back to sleep to doze away his pain. Eyes fluttering, he gave another sickly burp and turned over. Before he fell into a doze he asked, "Papa do you think I can hold my ale better there at that feast?"  
>"Why son?" Curiosity came over his rough features.<p>

Bae snorted sleepily. "Well the pirates said many my age drink rum and grog and ale with the rest. If I met that stupid Emma girl there…." He let the matter go unsaid. Surely he would only want to brag he could out drink her. Surely.

Rumpel chuckled good naturedly at the boy. So that had been the last prod to try an ale. "Son I may not know everything about women, but I do know that being yourself is the only way to keep a true impression on them."

"I'm not trying to impress her!" Bae lied and groaned as the words rang in a shot in his mind.

Patting his son on the arm, the spinner began to move away. "Sure you're not son," he laughed quietly to himself before he limped back up the stairs.

The dawn was creeping over the edge of the world as he exited to the main deck. Streamers of faded pink clouds skimmed the very edge of the sky like opalescent boats of the heavens going back to their angelic docks. Amethyst mingled with a slant of red donned the sun like a royal mantle across some unseen shoulders that mounted forth the day.

To Rumpelstiltskin, with all their lives n tact, the sunrise had never looked so beautiful. The day was fresh and new and he realized how dear and precious life was.

"Oi, lad!" Cook hailed him with a wave of a big hand from the galley. Putting a tray on the first step, he slid the tray a bit and shuffled back inside the kitchen. "Serve the cap'n her grub now. I don't think she's in much of a mood to be kept waitin'. Arrow injuries have a way of makin' a body temperamental. That and a few days of bed rest."

Chuckling fondly at the cook that had miraculously saved their lives Rumpel began to obey. Limping over to the tray, he picked the meal up and began to move to her compartment only to be stopped by the captain herself.

Dressed in a red shirt and light breeches, her hair was free and tumbled down like brown silk that gleamed in the morning rays. A bit of her old shirt she had been wearing when she was shot was shredded and turned into a makeshift bandaged across her wound. The bit of cloth was crusted with dried blood, bring a picture to the spinner's mind he never wished to see again.

Only a miracle could have let her be up so soon, but she was stubborn and truth be told he was hardly surprised the indomitable captain had laid in bed the entire night!

"For once I'm not going to listen to my ships doctor," a bit of humor haggardly trimmed her voice. Slowly walking over to the port side of the ship, she settled down on a barrel and beckoned the spinner over.

Obeying with alacrity, the spinner limped over and laid the tray on the ships rail. Part of him wished to inflect Silver's want of her to stay in bed, but he hadn't the courage nor the will. He did not wish to see her lying in bed still even in sleep. The thought made him think of her in a casket, dead, which well could have been the case.

"You should take things easy for a few days," Rumpel suggested softly as he poured her regular tea just the way she liked. The milky steam swirled up and clashed with the billowing air until becoming lured and spirited away by the wind.

Silence only met his suggestion. Belle looked the epitome of indifference. Her head was turned to the crystalline waters. Her indigo eyes shimmered into the priceless, unobtainable diamonds of the waves as she mutely dissolved his words. Thoughtfulness traced her features, giving away thoughts that fled her mind.

Sighing, Rumpel leaned on the rail. He knew what was on her mind, for the same resided in his. Her thoughts were not with his injury but the one who had placed them upon her. "Why do you think he did it?" Rumpel asked curiously as he looked out into the lighting waters clipped gleams of luminance.

What had prodded Gaston to such lengths? The man was a bully and a monster, yes, but he had been loyal to Belle.

Dread filled the pit of Belle's stomach with the query. He could almost read her thoughts, but unlike him she knew the reason. At least, her heart knew. Did she dare divulge that secret? "Gaston was a jealous man," she finally admitted.

"What did he have to be jealous of?" Rumpel snorted at the very idea. Men would have killed to become what Gaston was.

Not looking at him, she kept her eyes riveted to the horizon. "He and I had been a… thing many years back. He was my betrothed and we were to be married," she reveled with express freeness she barely allotted any.

Though the crew had known, not many beside them had and she had not willingly wont to reveal that fact.

A sharp pang pulsed in the spinners frail heart at the admission but the feeling passed even before the hurt could really make an impact. Why had the knowledge hurt, he wondered, and why had the feeling fled so fast?

"So… so why would he betray you?" asked Rumpel curiously. "If he was too be married to one such as you he should have clung to his loyalty. Why did he turn traitor?"

Silence exited betwixt them for long, palpable moments.

Why indeed, Belle asked herself inwardly. Of course she knew the answer, but again, did she dare reveal what she knew? After the night how could she not?

Vapidly, Belle turned to the wary spinner. Inch by inch she leaned into him, as though to tell him a secret. Her eyes were bright as sapphires in the pink light that melded all around them in the tranquil dawn. Closer and closer she came, the carrier of the secret, and so she replied the truth, not in mere words, but with a kiss.

Her lips gently pressed into his in a slow, savoring meeting of budding ardor. Her mouth locked to his, and Rumpel's felt himself battle back to her in the gentle tussle of the foreign exploration.

Warily, Belle drew up a tremulous hand and placed her palm against his rough cheek. Her fingers brushed lightly against him, touching him, searching him. The kiss seemed to last but a hearts rapid beat before she pulled away.

Looking at her, Rumpel stared breathless at the beautiful captain. Had she really just kissed him?

Face somber but on the cusp of baring strange new emotions, she smiled sadly at the spinner. "That's why, Rumpel," she reveled in a low whisper and slowly slid away leaving him alone.

Stuck dumb, the spinner merely let his eyes follow her. His body couldn't have replied to any command at the moment even if he had wanted too. Every move she made from the rail to the wheel was watched. Her fluid grace only inhibited by her wound seemed to entrance him.

He could still feel her kiss on his lips and they tingled like some strange new delight. Inside, his soul whirled with a kaleidoscope of emotions that bounded and surged to be free.

Rage, affront, bliss, and utter happiness all stole over him wanting to be let out. How dare she try to express her affections against a captive she had ripped from his home! But then again how too her soft kiss breathed forgotten life into him.

Should he have been upset?

Should he have been happy?

Dazedly picking up the tray, the spinner marched to her cabin to deliver the untouched food. He looked at her once but her eyes were pinned to the horizon. She dared not look at him yet and think of what she had done. No not yet.

She would be up there all day, he knew; thinking on all the matter that had happened from that point upwards.

Entering her cabin, the spinner shut the door and placed down the tray for her earliest convenience. Looking about the room, a sigh shuddered painfully from him as the night flashed in his eyes. Blood still flecked some things and the glass sprinkled the floor like sharp green drops of dew bringing back the memories that froze his blood.

Thinking a little work would clear his mind, the spinner began to tidy up a few things that he knew she would appreciate. Picking up the large chunks of glass he reflected upon the fun of the night before and their now more obvious meanings though he doubt even she knew the full extent.

How stupid could he have been, he cursed himself, why hadn't he seen things before? Did he think that no one could ever…lo- did he even dare think the word?

Shaking the thought away, the spinner vapidly limped over to the corer where Belle had fallen. Blood still slicked the floor and a large shard had flown there from the crash of glass.

Bending to pick up the shard, he paused as his eyes caught the cuff of her sea coat stuffed under the bunk. The nattily tailored coat possessed a few splotches of blood on the cuff where her essence had flowed.

The thing would probably need mending and a good clean, he thought to himself, happy to have his mind off things. Pulling the coat out, his eyes inspected the damage. At least what was done to the coat could be re-

The thought was snatched like field mouse by an eagle as he stared at the coat. Shock filled him like an icy deluge over his head. Was the impossible right before him?

Holding up the coat further, the inspected the garment once again to be sure his eyes did not deceive him. His index finger wormed through a small hole on the right side of the front lapel where she had been struck

That should have been there most certainly he knew, on the other hand the other hole on the back of the coat fitting perfectly with the lapel should not have been possible.

Astounded, he stared dumbstruck at the coat, if what he held was true, then the arrow had gone all the way through her chest….

~8~8~

Blackbeard spat a glob of blackish phlegm into the fetid waters of the dock as he watched his men work. The rough crew cursed and spat at one another as they labored at their captain's odd request. Nets instead of weapons were held in their hands as the bent over the rail of their ship trying to catch something in the net.

His other two ships were out trawling the waters further out where the _Rose _had made sail, but he had a good inclination he wouldn't find what he was looking for so far away from the docks.

"Keep trawling you lucky sons of dog!" he order heartily and waved his cutlass to show he tolerated no slacking as he prowled the deck. "It's here somewhere I feel it in me b-"

"Captain!" A crewman on the furthest part of the rail called out. His skinny body struggled as he pulled something up in the worn net.

Wolfish smile on his lips, the captain stomped to the man. Thrusting his cutlass in the deck, he pitched in and helped him tug up the line. Grunts fell from his lips as they managed to bring the think on deck.

With devilish laugher, the infamous pirate roared in merriment as what he sought came up.

Covered in seaweed and refuse of the town, the body of Gaston lay upon the deck. Blood that had not been washed by the sea stained his clothes and his face was as pale as death. Dark strands veiled his face in sinuous tendrils that looked akin like octopus legs.

Waving his crew off, the captain squatted beside the waterlogged body. Curiously stroking his beard her grunted humorously at the body. "So you thought vengeance was the right answer did you?" If he was angry, he hid the emotion well. No, instead, a jovialness and smug rightness graced him. "I hope you learned you lesson."

Confusion jumped from crewman to crewman as their captain spoke to the corpse. Why would he speak to a dead body they all wondered until the impossible occurred.

Right before them, the waterlogged body of Gaston sputtered and began to move with life that had not been gone at all.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Woo, this was a little longer than I planned but I'm glad I got through everything. _


	13. Not Knowing

Pale, sleepy slivers of moonlight beamed down tranquility over the calm, undulating seas. The waters were bereft of even a hint of tempest and seemed to rock the ship like a caring mother. Waves lapped gentle hands against the side of the boat and sparkled luminescent gray with the silvery speckles of light brought forth by the gibbous moon that hung just inches over the black line of the horizon.

Now and then a dolphin or some sea creature skirted and broke against the bright waters turning the very ocean into a strange sort of ballroom of strange and mythical creatures cavorting just below the glassy depths.

All was quite in the late night that set them two days out from the port. Not even a far out albatross cried out over the brine leaving the night silent as the seas below. The crew had worked desperately to sail away from the moment they had left port, for Belle's words that night had been all too needless a warning. Every pirate worth their salt knew of the infamous Blackbeard and his ignoble reputation.

He was a man without clemency and without code. Even their own kind hated him, but feared him just the same. He hadn't gotten the title of the most ruthless man on the high seas by playing fairly by any means. Devious was his heart and black was his blood. No one tangled with him if they could help that misfortune. If Gaston really was his informant then all the more reason had they to work tirelessly.

With Blackbeard as their burning lash of incentive driving them onward, the crew did their work without rest until finally once they were moderately secure, they lay exhausted in their endless toil. They all collapsed in their hammocks in solid dozes and even the lookout lay half asleep in the crows nest leaving Rumpelstiltskin to his own devices.

Finely woven linen rustled through Rumpel's work worn hands as he stared at the captain's sea coat. The moon low and brighter than any lantern was more than enough to see by leaving the spinner enough light to look over the jacket thoroughly. Confusion still invariably plastered his face as he fingered the frayed fabric that had produced the neat holes.

Though all the craziness that whirled about is mind, the coat had taken the preeminence even against her kiss. Oh but the kiss! His lips tingled in ecstasy even at the thought. That was nearly enough to drive away the thoughts of the impossible for what could have been more impossible than her lips to meet his? But, with the coat in his hand, with another mystery that shouldn't have been, her kiss was scarcely hedged out for the forefront thought in his mind. She should have by all accounts been dead, not expressing some ardor for him as impossible as _that _was.

With the discovery of the sea coat he managed to sneak the attire out without her knowing. Even if she had suspicion he was certain that she would have kept quiet about the matter. She had not lied only to him but to the entire crew than night of her survival. Obviously she was set on secrecy.

Staring down at the coat, glided in silver by the moon, the spinner pondered the garments meaning. His brow furrowed dubiously as he tried to match the pieces together. So far there were only more questions.

The oddity of the crew was one, for they were a curious thing indeed. Certainly they acted as pirates did, but there were times when they fell into moments of reverie and silence. More than once he had spotted a killer looking out over the choppy waters, their faces the picture of morose and misery and longing.

Belle and Gaston were another curiosity to mull over. If the man was Belle's betrothed for so long why had they not simply gone through a marriage ceremony? Certainly they had enough wealth to settle in some indiscreet village to start afresh, or even keep robbing if that was their desire. Why had they waited?

And last of all, he pondered, how did the coat bind all of that? Perhaps, the garment was old and the hole was merely a coincidence, but his expertise in fabric had dashed that highly unlikely notion all together. No both tears had happened at the same time by the same weapon.

Running his thumb against the edged of the back hole, his lips pulled into a thoughtful frown. He was almost certain if he could figure out why the coat was punctured but she was not, he could cobble the rest together and yet there was no way to come by that information so easily. Everyone was so tight lipped on the ship that weeding out one scrap of knowledge usually led to a dozen more mysteries.

Frustrated, a sharp sigh spat irksomely from his lips. Every piece he gathered only seemed to wring forth more questions. Too many vague ideas floated aimlessly around in his mind and everyone seemed accurate.

So, a hint of terror rankled and determination through his form, there was only one thing to do, something that he sincerely did not wish but had to all the same. Answers needed to be had and there was one man to give them.

Carefully folding the cloak into a tight bundle, the spinner stuffed the suspicious article into a useless, hole ridden water barrel that many simply used to sit on when there was no work. There he could hide the coat away from all and still have the thing when he needed for the right moment.

Nervously licking his salty lips, Rumpel turned and limped his way across the moon lit deck and down into the cargo hold. The way was lit by a few tarnished, filthy lanterns, but the path was clear enough to see someone at the end of the way blocking the storing chambers.

Crews, he had learned, were notorious for trying to sneak extra goods from their larders and treasure stores, and Belle's was no exception. They were human after all with just as many vices as any man on land or sea.

Given that weakness of crews, she had made a system of guards who half watched, half slept in front of the door to keep others fro stealing in. If anything went missing the guard was punished therefore reducing the times one would help a shipmate out if they truly had a desire to steal.

Crutch taping softly down the dimly lit way, the spinner praised his good fortune for who guarded the door. The large form of Little John sat wedged back in a rotting chair. His back pressed against the doorway and his hands folded across his stomach as he napped in front of the goods.

Bolstering what little courage he had, the spinner tapped the hulking man and prayed his plan worked. "Little John? Wake up," he prodded tenuously, hoping to wake the man without an ill temper.

Snuffling and grunting fitfully, like a bear awakened from a pleasant doze, the sleepy pirate opened red rimmed, bleary eyes. "Huh… what's it…." His eyes focused as sleep was momentarily pushed to the edges of his mind. A lazy, sleepy smile grew upon his lips as the form hardened in the murky dimness. "Oh," he yawned pleasantly and scratched his stomach. "Rumpel… only you. What's you doing down here so late?"

"Silver sent me," the spinner lied with as much gumption and ease as he could manage at the dangerous moment. He might have changed his mind had any other been guarding the door, but Little John wasn't as… quick at the rest. The plan could get him into too much trouble with any other but what he needed lay inside.

The giant yawned behind a meaty fist. "What's the old devil want?"

"Captain wants her best wine and promptly. Silver sent me down to fetch the bottle," the spinner explained with a bit more courage than before.

That wasn't a so odd request. They often sent him everywhere aboard the ship to collect things and gather little odds and ends needed all aboard the ship.

Chuckling dazedly, the hulking man rose from his seat. Turning about, he produced a key and undid the lock on the door. "Captain still smarting from getting shot, huh? Needs a drink to soother her?"

"You could say that," Rumpel agreed nervously as he watched the man go into the great room.

Taking a lantern with him, Little John managed his way through the dried goods and treasures all boarded up into one huge cargo area. Inside there were iron riveted chests of treasure and barrels of grain, silks, gems, flour, sugar and every other kind of good a pirate ship could want. No one ever complained that Belle kept a scanty ship or was tight fisted with her goods.

Bumping around with the one paltry light as his aid, the pirate finally came to a finely crafted wine closet. They had pilfered the novel thing from some duke in the south many years ago and now the captain used the thing for her own pirate stock of wine she collected.

Opening the extensively carved doors of sequoia crafted into two dwarves at a battle stance, he searched for a bottle that the captain would like. "Strange…" he muttered as he searched. "The captain usually comes down her herself to pick what she wants when she desires a bit of wine."

Icy dread miserably clamped Rumpel's chest as he thought he heard an air of suspicion from Little John. Perhaps he wasn't as dim as believed. "She's not in the mood to do much of anything tonight. The wound still makes her weak at times and she spent most of the day at the wheel."

That was true enough. Since she had kissed him she spent more time at the wheel than ever before. Some had started to joke that her hands had become glued to the spokes themselves.

"Right, right," Little John harrumphed and in his sleepy thoughts abolished all conspiracy in his mind.

Grabbing a dusty bottle from the back the large man lumbered back to the spinner at the open storage door. Sleepily he thrust the bottle in cripples hand, closed the door again, and hunkered down with a grunt back in his chair.

Settling himself, he leaned back and closed his eyes as the thought of his captain's oddity became no more than another dream lost in is mind.

Almost trembling, the spinner quickly muttered a thanks and departed lest someone catch him in the act. The move had been a daring one that could have ended with him being flogged. His heart raced like the ship at full sails as he hugged the bottle close. He could scarcely believe his good fortune. His risk had gone positively splendid!

Not daring to stop until he reached the deck, the spinner defied the ache in his leg until he hid himself in a small corner of the ship. A pang jolted unpleasantly through the maimed limb but his mind couldn't focus on the pain, only his success.

The moon beamed scanty true silver rays down where he stood providing him a good amount of cover from peering eyes.

Holding the wine up, a small smile tipped his lips. Oh yes, he preened happily on the inside, the wine would serve him well. That was hoping his ploy succeeded.

~8~8~

"Kissed him…," Belle muttered in an embarrassed sigh wholly unlike herself. Kissed him!

Digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, the beauty cursed roundly at her thoughtlessness. Embarrassment and dread and jubilance all swarmed about her pulling her in a thousand different directions that she had no desire to go.

What had she done in that terrible instant, she wondered in abysmal terror. Why had she reveled that she knew why Gaston had grown jealous? Why did she choose to show him in that way? And why wasn't she sorry at all?

Carding a hand through her dark amber tresses, she fought down a scream. What made that trueness in her claw up inside and be free? Was the relief she saw upon his features when she revealed herself alive the last claw hold her soul needed? Did her heart soften for him when she had heard his cry of anguish when she had fallen? What had been the driving point, she wondered just as she had been trying to figure all night.

The day was just beginning to break through the curdled line of clouds in the gray sky as the thought milled through her mind for the thousandth time. Kissed him, by the lords of the seas she had kissed him! She had-

"Oh ho your ladyship, I knew you were up!" Silver happily barged in her cabin uninvited. One hand laden precariously with a tray, he swaggered inside as though he owned the entire ship. Since she had been injured he had watched over her like a hawk over a chick. He studiously checked up regularly to make certain she was well even though they all took his reputation as "ship doctor" with a grain of salt.

He had also been a bit of a fatherly type especially to Belle, making certain she was well cared for. A special place bloomed in his heart for her and she returned the favor in kind with more patience that only one more in her life received.

Wane smile faintly upon her lips, the beauty smiled as she tiredly looked up to the cook. "I haven't had much sleep," she admitted gently and sat back in her chair. Rubbing her brow, she sighed and tried to let the nights thoughts go.

"I know the feeling cap'n," Silver testified with a grunt and shut the door with a boot. "All ye can see is that arrow in yer chest." He shook his head and slapped the tray down before her. Leaning over the steaming meal, he waggled a plump finger at her. "Tis no secret cap'n everyone has those time, funny ailments that rile up in ye. Yer dreams is haunted with almost meetin' Davy Jones and his foul crew."

Dourly tossing her head, the beauty defied his explanation and looked away from the caring man. "I've had worse Silver.… Something." Did she dare admit to her oldest friend what troubled her?

"What lass?" confusion, gentleness, and the rare seriousness he showed all swarmed about him. Brow scrunched like two fuzzy worms, he eyed her as though some new ailment he could not prescribe an ale and some rest configured dangerously in her.

Choking back a boulder in her throat, the beauty let another, more painful confession slide past her lips. "I kissed him," she divulged to Silver quietly. A little laugh stumbled mirthlessly from her disbelieving lips. "I kissed Rumpelstiltskin."

"YOU DID WHAT!" His always good-natured calm melted into a skeleton of shock and displeasure. His grizzled jaw hung open as he leaned his girth over the desk as though he needed to get a better look at her. Was she crazy? "What possessed you to do such a foolish thing!"

Belle flung up her hands as though giving the whole matter up to fate. "I don't know! It's something about him… we're so alike him and I… lonely and so different than what others take us for…. I don't know…." She stabbed the heels of her hands into her brow and forced back a sob. "I don't know anything anymore!"

She had become so confused since the kiss. How could she tell what she felt for the man? How could she tell if she felt anything true for him. She had never felt like she did for anyone before. The feeling was so novel and new that she knew not how to form her feelings. They were akin to one great mass inside her that had popped leaving her emotions roaming uncheck around her ailing heart.

"Oh no, no you're not supposed to fall in love with him, captain," Silver ruminated, his voice gruff with disbelief at the twist thrown at them. Why hadn't he thought that they would get to that point? Was he so assured in Belle's coldness that he hadn't possibly thought…. "I saw you start to grow fond of him. I thought you had found a friend, perhaps just a lover if anything. You aren't supposed to… Do _that _or feel _this_! You know what we need him for!"

How could fate toss them such a gamble now? In their plans she couldn't risk falling in love with the one man she shouldn't.

"I know I know… but maybe there is another…?" she broached intrepidly, scrambling for anything to soothe her. What she was saying she barely knew, but her heart screamed to think of something, anything.

Darkness and barely suppressed rage crowded over Silver's features. "Now wait just a minute captain. You can't possibly try to delay any longer. For years we have been out here, some of us more than others. You have gathered the perfect crew. How many would leave if we told them we were headed back now? They've all guessed what's happening. I've heard them talk. They know you and they know the announcement you'll make after Regina's. They won't take kindly if you change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind," Belle argued tenaciously, her eyes gleaming thought her words sounded not so assured. "Maybe just a little more time."

"We don't have a little more time!" exploded the cook, his voice a roar. "Not when we're so close we can smell it! To turn back around because of him, well that's just… not an option. You should-"

"Don't you lecture me Long John Silver I am the captain and can do anything I please!" Belle arose angrily to face the pirate. The chair behind her fell back with a loud clatter as though ending the conversation. Who was sole master aboard the ship if not she? Her eyes bored down determinedly into Silver's who gave nothing but rage in return. "I will find a way, Silver," her voice barely came above a whisper. "I owe everyone here that. I will find a way."

Glowering darkly, the cook snorted angrily, though his shoulders slumped. He knew Belle was stubborn. She would go her own course but at what cost? "We'll see about that lass," he spat softly and twisted his ample girth.

Stomping out like an angry bear he prowled away leaving Belle afraid, alone, and wondering what she was possibly going to do and having no idea where to even remotely begin.

~8~8~

Near utter darkness surrounded a cabin far away from _The Forgotten Rose_. The smell of old ale suffused the air, but the room lay so dark no being could tell from where the smell originated.

Only a few souls had entered that room and had left alive, for that was the private cabin of Edward Teach.

"Well now…," Blackbeard paused casually to take a puff of a white whalebone pipe. A plume of nauseating, bluish-gray smoke billowed about his face and produced an ominous orange glow from the pipe as he chewed the stem and started mirthfully at the dry but furious Gaston. "What was that you said about getting skinned alive a few nights before if you failed me?"

Gaston snarled and stared hatefully at the infamous captain as his words came back to haunt him. The anger was useless however in the pitch darkness of the place. "Save your breath Blackbeard," he spat fearlessly to the cruel man. Now that he had miraculously survived his death, now knowing how exactly, he was feeling nigh invincible, even before the dreaded captain. He had no fear of torture, but he did have fear of failure of his own.

Gaston had always thought of himself as the best. He was a prideful man and failure of any sort was not an option.

Leaning back in a chair, the former boson kicked out petulantly and cursed at the pirate captain. "I said I can get you there and so I shall."

After his "death" he had realized how badly he had failed and how Belle had escaped. He didn't have the ship or her notes, but that hardly mattered to him. Only revenge mattered now.

"Ah but you don't have all the pieces now." The captain motioned his whalebone pipe to the former boson. Though he knew of Gaston's survival, he still felt no fear. In his schemes he had only gained power over the man. He could get what Gaston wanted, so the stupid man would behave as long as they were of one accord.

If not, he had ways of ridding himself of the boson.

Tapping the side of his head, the betrayer grinned venomously. "I have everything stored up here. I was her boson. She didn't leave me out of the loop like others."

"So you say," sagely remarked Blackbeard with a insouciant nod of his filthy head. If Gaston thought that then truly the man was stupid as he was large, he noted inwardly. Had he been in Belle's situation he would have given the boson nothing but the bare minimum to keep him along.

Gaston cursed the captain roundly, infuriated at his incredulity. "So I know. Believe me I had enough time to figure out everything."

"Even that you couldn't die?" A sly smile tipped the captain's bearded lips. If the man didn't even know he couldn't perish how could he claim to know he knew everything of Belle's plans?

"Other crew died," Gaston revealed hesitantly, slightly cowed by the perception that was all too accurate. "Even our cook's old assistant died on a land raid. I had no cause to believe I couldn't. I never willingly put myself in that situation. How should I have known I couldn't die?"

He had been just as surprised as anyone when he had come out of the deeps. He had nearly been at the bottom of the sea though he had had his conscious about him, if faintly.

Blackbeard motioned his pipe to the traitor. The dottle of embers inside cast their strange glow in the otherwise dark room. "You should have known, but she didn't tell you."

"You think Belle knew?" Gaston snorted dubiously.

The captain nodded thoughtfully. "You two have been together since the beginning. You said once that she was the most daring woman ever to set sail to sea. You don't think she didn't know? Even I know barely anyone is her equal in wits. Have no doubt she figured that out for herself. Which make me wonder what else did she feigned to tell you?"

Silence of rare thoughtfulness encompassed Gaston. His face traced thin lines of concentration that failed to connect many dots but drew revelation to a few. Why had she not told him if she knew? Did anyone else know? What else had she been keeping from him?

"The better question is," Gaston began curiously, now in a thoughtful mood, "Why aren't you upset? I obviously failed. Belle's no doubt alive and they've gotten away."

A dark chuckle slithered from Blackbeard like a snake winding out ito the darkness. Clamping the pipe in his rotted teeth, the pirate leaned back. His face looked burnished with hellfire under the glow of his bright pipe. "I can't be upset knowing I'm not all out of cards yet. You see Gaston, her not telling you that you specifically couldn't die may work to our advantage."

"I don't know what you mean," Gaston confessed plainly.

Another chuckle escaped his pipe clenched lips. "That's the thing. There is a lot of not knowing going around. Captain Belle doesn't know that you know you can't die. She doesn't know that I know you can't die, and she doesn't know that I picked you up because you can't die. She doesn't even know that you're alive and on this ship. She doesn't know that I know everything you know and more on that matter." Before Gaston could speak, he quickly held up a hand. "But here's the best part. I know what she's about. I know what she'd doing, how she's doing it, and where she's going. We'll simply follow them, scoop them up after Regina's feast and everything will be going right as we plan."

Oh yes, the ignorance that clouded them would work just fine for him.

~8~8~

The day had come and gone again along the open seas. Though the frightening days of escape had passed the hours still dragged on in abase tedium. The crew rose, worked and off to their hammocks they went again.

Only Rumpel remained on deck just as the night before, with all his courage to set his plan in motion. Holding the sea coat bundled tightly under one arm the spinner lipped cautiously to the galley. His mind scrambled frantically for any deities he had even only faintly heard about before in a plea that his plan would work. If things went awry then there was no telling what ill fate would meet him.

Silver, he knew, wasn't like Little John or even the rest of them, he would take a little work, but he was the vault of all the knowledge. Belle found a confidant in Silver and what he knew, Rumpel had to know.

Knocking warily on the wide galley doors in the darkness, the spinner scrambled backwards a few paces. He had only moments before the thick double doors swung out wide. The loud bang of them beating the side nearly made him cringe but he kept himself steady.

Looking out curiously into the darkness, the large cook, bereft of his filthy apron stood in the way and poked his head out like a mole in the dark. A look of confusion crossed his face for a half a second before his eyes settled to Rumpel.

"Well now Rumble Bumble I was just about to take me a small doze. What brings ye here now?" He grinned amiably but didn't move.

Licking is dry lips, the spinner scuffled close to the doors. "Captain wanted me to sew her sea coat," he lied fluidly. Rummaging with the bundle, he produced the bottle of potent wine wrapped safely under the coat. "She also wanted some wine but her taste suddenly turned. She… gave the bottle to me and I thought we could share some," he offered nervously with a faint grin.

"Share eh?" the large cook scratched his jaw dubiously as his eyes pinned voraciously to the bottle. "Not many here know what that word means anymore."

Why would he offer… unless….

Rumpel held out the bottle. "You've been the kindest to me on this boat Silver. Barring Belle of course. I'm not a man to drink too much. I want to share." His lips perched into a wary smile. "What do you say? A few drinks?"

Incredulity framed the cooks face as he intently studied Rumpel and his motives. Terror froze the spinner that he would be found out but her dared not move or recant. He had thrown his die now and whatever came of his risk would come.

"Well…." Slowly a smile overcame the cook's corpulent face. "Get in here quick before some lout spots ye now. A whole bottle of wine between me and me mess mate. Ah the sea hag's are favroin' us this night, aint they!"

Slapping the spinner heartily on the shoulder, he drew him in the galley. The warmth of the kitchen was pleasant on the rather chill night. The stoves had not all died out leaving the room toasty and lighted in a warm glow that was homely rather than ominous and foreboding.

Limping over to a bench, Rumple carefully laid down the sea coat to his left. Carefully making sure the holes were well hidden, he placed the bottle on the long, trench table and breath a relived sigh. One step was completed, perhaps the trickiest of them all.

"Oh ho a nice spot of wine!" Silver hummed cheerfully as he went around gathering two dingy pewter beakers and a large piece of salt fish for them to share, for wine always called for food of course. "I allus knew you was a good sort, Rumpel. A good friend to stick by!" he praised grandly.

A bit of guilt twanged in Rumpel's haggard heart with the knowledge of what was to come, but he smiled all the more in his deception. "I'm glad to have at least a few friends here."

"Don't let me forget to reimburse the favor now," Silver grunted as he sat his bulk on the opposite bench. "Silver always knows when to help a friend in turn."

Placing the beakers between them he took the bottle of wine and easily uncorked the spirits with his teeth. Pouring the dark red wine nearly to full in the two cups, he immediately tossed his back.

Wine dribbled down the sides of his mouth and unto a ragged shirt as he chugged away at the treat. Wine was rare amongst the crew and called for enjoyment of the greatest sorts.

Calmly, Rumpel sipped his wine. Not drinking would provide suspicion, though he made in his mind to be careful the dosage before his plan backfired.

Slamming the cup down with a sound thump that made the plates and cups wobbled and clatter, the cook smacked his lips tastefully. "Ah now what hit's the spot Rumble bumble." He grabbed the wine and began to refill his cup. "I'll have to thank Belle in the morning for this little beauty."

"Ah no need," Rumpel jabbered quickly, his heart nearly hammering out of his chest. "You know they've got ears everywhere on the ship. Someone will hear and they'll get jealous that we got a bottle and they didn't."

Helping himself to a third, filled cup, the cook hiccupped and smiled wanly. His cheek were already dappled a bit pink with he strong spirits that weren't watered. "Yer right. Greedy little bunch this is. Never content with what they have or had."

"I haven't been around long enough to know all about that," the spinner mumbled and refilled the cooks cup again. "Here have some more wine," he offered pleasantly and topped of the cup.

Smiling contentedly, the cook gladly accepted every dose of wine the cripple poured in his beaker. Who was he to say no to a little wine? Again and again the wine was poured into his cup, Rumpel's left untouched, until only a quarter was left in the large bottle and the cook was a sodden mess.

"And I'll tell ye another thin'!" Silver hiccupped drunkenly as he wagged a finger at one of the two Rumpel's he was seeing. "These pirate's today don't have no respect for us old 'un's! Used to be a time where when a pirate got to a certain age, there was a 'bye your leave' and a 'let me buy ye a drink old timer'! Take me old ship mate for example. Sparrow. Taught the lad everythin' he knows and did he ever give me credit, ever mention his dear friend agin'? No!"

Rumpel listened patiently, his face attentive as the moment he had walked in which was merely an hour ago. Silver had emptied the strong wine fast and his inebriation had unleashed even more of his vociferous side than usual. He hadn't stopped chattering since the first drink.

And that was exactly what Rumpel hoped.

Leaning against the table, he produced his friendliest grin. "You know much about the sea then, being out here so long then?"

"Everythin' there is to know!" roundly boasted the cook and with as much truth as he could give.

Rumpel canted his head feigning curiosity. "So what possessed you to sign up with this crew? They're not really anything special. Couldn't you have settled somewhere or started your own?"

"Oh indeed I could have. I had the whole world as palace to roam where I pleased. I had everything at me grubby little fingertips; all for the takin', but…. Belle she needed me and I needed her. I could tell that from the first time I met the lass those years and years ago." His voice fell to a musing mumble.

Looking down at the red splotches of wine on the trench table, the drunken cook snorted sadly as though some dour memory played there. Sullenly he shook his head. The days events and his argument with Belle had not left him fully and with the talk of the crew, the bitter words arose with morose clarity in his minds eye. "I thought she could do it… I still think she could. She can just…."

"What can she do, Silver?" Rumpel leaned in closer as though drawn to the truth so close to the surface of the cook. "What's going on here? What is this crew, this entire thing about? There is so much mystery here that the questions fall thicker than a fog. Tell me what's going on?"

Finally he had gotten to the root of the entire plan. He needed to know, almost more than he needed to breathe. What was Belle doing? What were they all doing?

Sighing dourly, the cook looked torn with himself His red streaked eyes searched the splintered wood of the table, before his shoulder slumped and he looked up to the spinner across the table.

"Well ye see," he began steadily, "There's this dagger…."


	14. Is It Better To Know?

"A dagger?" Rumpel parroted confusedly, his voice a tangled mass of dubiousness and fear. Incredulity marred his features as he looked at the sodden Silver. "This whole thing is about a mere weapon?"

For the first time he belatedly saw a flaw in his well constructed plans. Things had played out perfectly save for one overlooked detail. Silver was so drunk, who knew if he was telling the truth or set to ramble and brag and tell tales like any pirate would? Would the story be true or simply some popular yarn told by sleepy brigands in the large cook's current constitution?

Could he truly rely upon his information?

Hiccupping luridly, the cook nodded sloven accretion to his words, his chin nearly touching his wine stained, filthy shirt with every bob of his head. "Ye heard me right - a dagger." Placing his elbows on the table, he held out both his plump index fingers to give some invisible measurement and closed an eye as though to help him focus. "The darlin' thing is about oh this big, but hark and make no mistake lad, this dagger is no simple weapon now. No, no, this here dagger is _magic_," he uttered the last word like some awe inspiring mystical spell.

"Loot then," the spinner afforded a guess, his voice barely hiding his disappointment. He cast his face sadly to the torn coat that had not been illuminated with answers. "Belle is only after magical loot."

To say he was relieved that he had found at last the truth, or at least a portion, to the entire thing wasn't exactly accurate. He was of course relived to know what they were after and in truth that could have very well been why the crew acted so strange. Pirates were notorious for being superstitious, but that didn't explain everything.

Perhaps, he wondered dourly, he was looking at another dead end.

Slowly Silver shook his head, his voice dropping down to a deathly whisper. "Not just any loot. Oh no we don't mean to sell this there beauty by any means once we find 'er. We've got to many plans for that! Ye see Rumble Bumble this dagger…," he paused and looked around as though some pirate had snuck in or perhaps the master of the ship herself stood behind him before he turned back to Rumpel. His lips curved into an excited, drunk grin. "This here dagger is not just any magic. The magic dagger grants wishes!"

"Wishes?" The cripple's brow beetled into thin, sharp lines of inquisitiveness. Now that was of worth to note, and yet, infuriatingly only dredged up more questions. What would someone like Belle need a wishing dagger for? "You're saying she's going to search for a dagger after we go to this feast?"

"Ye act like she just up and decided to start searching' for the lovely thing on a whim," Silver grunted and placed his hands down. His breath was potent enough to kill flies in the air as he leaned closer to the dubious spinner. "This has been a quest that's gone back years; many… many years. Ye see lad, this dagger we're searching' for is not so easily found. The way to the fabled blade is riddled with enough traps to kill an entire kingdom! If ye knew half the horrors that awaited us there ye'd be shakin' till your knees knocked out O' their sockets and run off on ye," he explained in hyperbolic but deadly seriousness.

The place they were headed was strewn with enough dangers to kill them all in the most terrible ways possible. What they sought was of no little magic and equally as protected because of that fact.

Such a terrible place, Rumpel pondered inwardly, letting Silver's dour telling of the place sink in. Why would anyone wish to go there then? Surely the pirates would be more than happy to keep sustaining themselves with their vile deeds and a wise captain like Belle instead of risking their lives. Why would they go for the dagger then if-? "The crew doesn't know.…" Rumbled concluded frozenly, his blood filling with terror.

What if the crew had no clue what their captain had in mind? What if Belle's intentions would sending them all to their deaths on a mad hunt for such power?

"That's where ye're wrong," checked the red cheeked cook. "They all be knowin'. Belle recruited them because they know and they want their wishes."

Confusion roiled and bubbled over the spinner again with the ready admittance. Frustration poked his frail heart rousing the rarely awoken anger there. Raking a calloused hand roughly through his dirty brown hair, he looked away into the darkness that had waxed about them. The embers had died leaving the shadows lengthened upon their forms just as the questions lengthened upon his thoughts.

"This doesn't make sense," sighed the irked spinner. "Why would they do this? If what you say is true they'd be risking their lives for things they already have. The cargo is full of spoils and treasures enough for everyone aboard and more. What more do they possibly need?"

Was their greed so vast, their hunger for power so gluttonously insatiable, they would all risk demise? Were they all mad!

"What riches can't give 'em back," Silver revealed sorrowfully, his voice as glum and melancholy as the spinner had ever heard.

Taken aback by the sorrowful tone, so desperate from the usually jovial cook, the captive caught himself. His ire sloughed away like melted wax from his burning heart, replaced with a sudden pang of pity for the killer. Slowly, he turned back to face the corpulent cook.

The round man had turned from a secret confider into a mass of utter misery. Tears glistened un-shed in his piggish eyes. His body seemed to want to melt into the floor with the burdened that weighed on him. To Rumpel he looked suddenly older than the waters they rode.

Looking up with dour eyes, the cook sniffed tearfully. Rubbing his red tipped nose with the back of his dirty sleeve, he gulped back his pain. "All of us here have suffered a loss not all the treasure in all the world could give us back. No amount of gold or gem could soothe the ache scored so deep in us. Ariel… she was a mermaid… until she made a terrible bargain that lost her her legs and the man she loved lost to her somewhere out in the great wide world. Robin… he lost his wife but he found another who might share his affections. All he wants is a chance to prove his love so he, the woman he loves, and his son can be a family. Jefferson… poor lad. Lost his little girl. To where no man knows, but he vowed to get her back. All of us have suffered like that in some way. Ye see lad, the dagger can give us back all that we lost that gold can't replace. That's why we're headed after the precious thing. We've had to roam to find clues, collect supplies all for this dagger to grant us each a wish."

Rumpel remained still as stone as he absorbed the heart-breaking words. That was one part of the mystery solved. At least that explained the longing, the forbearance, and the absolute misery of some when they thought no one was looking.

They were on quests to mend shattered hearts.

"What about you, Silver?" the spinner inquired suddenly, moved to compassion for the old sea dog. "What do you want of this dagger?"

"What do ye think, lad!" He grabbed his thigh and thumped his injured leg out. Awkwardly he stretched the partially wooden limb free from the bench so that the wooden appendage sat on the edge. The peg leg was an ugly, half rotted thing in the ever dimming light. Bound tight at the knee, the wooden stump must have pained him every time he took a step. "I want to be free of this weakness. Too long I've spent like this. Too long. Do you know what it's like to lose a part of ye? Knowing ye can never go back, forever stuck and then… ye got a chance to let it all go?"

Wiping his red rimmed eyes with a thumb, the cook sniffed to reign in his emotions. "That's why we're here, lad. An thanks be, but we're close to the end of this quest. After this feast tis naught but sailing there, not dyin', and makin' good our wishes to stitch up these wounded hearts of ours."

Staring hard, a though caught nervously, in the spinner's mind. He knew he had no right to think of the matter, but the thought tiptoed in just the same. Lifting his head hopefully, the cripple dared another inquiry. "Do... do you think Belle would let me have a wish?"

Oh if he had a wish! His heart raced at the thought. No longer would he be a cripple. He would use the wish to let him walk properly again. If his son was granted a wish then they could be free and do whatever they pleased!

"No," Silver reveled flatly, crushing the tenuous ember of hope that had so suddenly brightened in the spinners heart.

Face falling, the spinner nearly felt his heart wrench in the darkness. "Why?" Had she already decided on the matter?

"Belle will have no use for ye after," he huffed liberally before his face softened in drunk pity. "I know this be a mite hard to hear, lad, but tis the truth. No one knows why she brought ye along," he lied. "We panned to disband the crew after we got our wishes. More than like she'll probably get to the feast and find the highest bidder to sell ye and the lad to and deliver ye both to them if we ever come back alive," he explained then yawned sleepily and stretched his arms.

Rumpel sputtered disbelievingly. "How can she…? I'd even give her my wish if she did not sell us."

Truly there could not be anything as terrible as that!

"Tis not use Rumpel Bumble. She only wants the thing she doesn't have." He shook his head. "She doesn't care about anything or anyone else."

Eyes darting frantically about as though some answer lay hidden there in his words, the spinner tried to rack his brain for any foothold. "Then I'll make her care about something. What is it she doesn't have? Maybe I can help her."

"She's not told a soul." Silver leaned forward. Head dipping lower and lower, his drunken doze slowly overtook him. Snorting and sniffling he laid his head on his hairy arms and with a last burp fell into a soundless sleep.

Staring at the sleeping cook, disbelief crossed the cripple's features. The one thing that could perhaps help him and his son not meet such an erroneous fate and whatever she had lost she told no one. Desperately, Rumpel clawed through his clues to find some link. What was so terrible to drive her on the long quest and how could he use that to make sure that he and his son were not s-

And all at once the pieces fit. The coat, the iciness, the uncaring all came together in one picture full and clear before his eyes. So simple now seemed the matter that if not for his fear he would have laughed that he had not see the truth sooner.

Rising silently, the spinner limped as if in a daze out of the galley leaving a drunken Silver to sleep off the wine.

Mutely he trekked under the dark sky to the cabin and knocked loudly on the door. For a moment in his revelation there was no timidity to fill his actions. He knew now and though he felt wary for his well being, he felt his heart ache for her, for now he understood.

Without backing away, without a hint of trepidation, the spinner stood there until the door opened. The dim light glowed sharply around the beauty as she opened the portal to the dimness.

Dressed as she normally was in her seafarers wear, the fact was obvious she had been far from sleep. Perhaps, like him, she too had been plagued with too many questions to find any repose.

Silently, the pair stared at one another. No word uttered betwixt them, but their eyes told the conversation that rippled like pebbles thrown in the pond of their hearts.

"This talk was coming wasn't it?" Belle deadpanned at last, severing the silent words that flew betwixt them.

Rumpel bobbed his head humbly. "Yes."

Indeed they had sorely needed to express something lest they both go mad with pondering and wonder. There were too many questions bared upon their heart, too many things to be acknowledged rather than disregarded.

Backing away from the door, the beauty held her arm out to the warm cabin. "Very well," her lovely voice was soft but brisk. "Come on before you let the cold in."

Stumbling inside, the spinner drew up his courage. His hands rubbed together nervously in clammy wariness as he tried to score up what to say. Clutching his staff close as though the limb were a shield to bar heart and body, he turned, his breath hitched, as he prepared to send out his words in a flooding torrent. "Captain-"

"The kiss was foolish of me to do, I know," Belle broke in steadily, unable to stand there and say nothing in the face of the man. Nervousness swam under the very surface of her calm, nearly breaking way for the anxiousness she felt beneath. "I don't know why I did such a thing. I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable which I undoubtedly have."

Stoically centering herself, she looked into his chestnut eyes. Her face was a strict mask that barely revealed what lay beneath. "I shouldn't have kissed you. It was a mistake and I'm sorry."

Dark brown eyes searching her lustrous indigo depths, the spinner marveled at what he saw. He had always had a knack for discerning what lay below and the moment there, with her, was no different. Given he could have refused to acknowledge what lay there. Indeed, he could have very well tried to use that guilt she had tucked away as a means for trying to lure her into giving them their safety, but he couldn't. For all the world he couldn't.

Slowly tossing his head the spinner felt his words replaced with the same sincerity he saw hidden in her. "No you're not sorry. You're scared but not sorry."

That was what he saw in her eyes and no amount of cold neutrality could disguise that which was pinned to her very soul.

The beauty's eyes narrowed angrily to allay the sudden icy spear of fear in her heart. She was still captain and still did not care to be refuted, especially when such words roused such terro. "How dare you-"

"Yes I dare," Rumpel interposed courageously, his heart hammering wildly. "And it doesn't happen often and I probably will regret what I say, but please listen while I have the courage to say what I truly mean." Limping a step towards her, he let that thread of courage wind around and stitch the tapestry of his foreign words. "You're scared because you don't know why you did what you did. You're scared that I might not have wanted that myself. You're scared because you didn't think you were supposed to have any feeling in something that isn't there."

Eyes wide as blue coins, terror flashed over the beauty's features. Could he read what lay etched so neatly penned upon her hidden soul? "What are you talking about?" She backed away as he took a step. He couldn't possibly know….

"You know what I'm talking about." He stepped forward again. "I know about the dagger and the losses and the wishes. I know what everyone wants… even you."

Belle was almost hypnotized by his eyes. As she backed away he came forward until her back hit the door. She didn't try to escape further, too absorbed in the words that he spoke and the inherent tenderness that lay there.

Stopping inches from her, the spinner nervously raised a hand. His eyes followed his fingertips as he laid them on the right side of her chest. "This." He looked back up to her, his eyes filled with warmth. "Is that why you're so strict and cold to everyone, because there is nothing here?" He lay his hand flat over the place her heart should have been. "Is this why you're so afraid of what that kiss could mean, because even though it's not there you feel what I feel for you? Is this why you're afraid because even though nothing lays here you feel the twinge of some invisible heart and you don't know how or why?"

As his words died around them anything could have happened at that moment. She could have slain him on the spot for being so bold. She could have demanded how he knew.

He could of have blackmailed her for truth. He could have used her pliable soul flown free from the sarcophagus of dark secrets and molded her how he wished in that one intrepid moment.

Instead, with baited breath, they waited.

Scalding tears shimmering from her azure orbs, the beauty grasped his hand with hers. Nodding slowly, her bottom lip quivering, a sob erupted from her lips with the secret only two more had known. "Yes," she rasped truthfully. "All of it, yes."

She shouldn't have felt with that which was not there. But she did. By every deity on land or sea she did!

Leaning forward, her slender arms wrapped around his spindly body. Her head buried into the curve of his neck as she let the pain from the terrible secret and all that had made her that way flow against the man she might have… loved.


	15. Feelings Long Forgotten

Shaking, delicate hands poured a steaming umber concoction of West Isles tea into two delicately painted blue and white ceramic cups. Wisps of pale silver steam swirled like forgotten ghost up to the smoke stained rafters and the brown brew rippled as two cubes of sugar were plunked in a piece to both cups.

Once the tea was finished, Belle hoisted the silver gilded tray and took the cups to the bed. Easing down on the mattress, she placed the tray between herself and the spinner like some paltry barrier. They had both agreed upon tea before hand, for tea helped calm them both. More than one eased conversation had been dealt betwixt them over them sipping the hot brew before.

The beauty, boasted and proudly so, she kept the best most salubrious tea on all the seas. The habit of the delicious brew had clung with her from her old life. A life she had not dared divulge to anyone. Until now.

"There." Belle curled her quivering hands over the cup and hoisted the ceramic close to her lips. Steam curled about her silken skin and graced her frowning, pink lips as she held the warm vessel close. "Perhaps now I shall have the courage to tell you my tale," she muttered self deprecatingly. Her cowardice had long held her in remittance of the story.

Too long had she been silent on her misfortune. Too long had she feared deep within her hollow, craven chest what others would think or how they would view her.

Warily taking up his cup, the spinner smile faintly in support and pity for the abjectly, miserable woman. How different she seemed with her secret revealed; thoughtful and open. "You're the most courageous person I know… for a pirate."

A stream of low chuckles burst surprisingly from the beauty from the odd admittance. In an irrevocable instant, however, the hand of melancholy dashed the mirth away into sharp, despondency once more.

"I wasn't always a pirate you know." She drew up a leg and sadly placed her chin on her knee. Thoughtfulness composed her lovely face as though molded there by some unknown artist. Her sapphire eyes distinctly searched through the intangible wavelength of time to pluck the right thread.

Nursing his spicy tea, the cripple heaved his shoulders in a small shrug. "I guess no one really starts out that way." Evil resided in people, he believed, but only when people let that evil take hold did they truly become wicked.

"Would you believe I started out as a noble?" humor laced the outskirts of her troubled voice and her lips were punctured with a faint, faraway smile. Before he could voice his surprise she continued her dour tale. "We were minor nobles my father and I. We had a small estate called Avonlea. We wanted for nothing. We were content. And then… the ogre's came." Belle flinched as though she could still hear the roars of the barbarous brutes howl savagely through the air.

The terrible years of the assault were printed firmly still into the depths of her mind. She could still see the streaks of scarlet gore upon the ground and the maimed bodies ripped limb from every possible limb in trees and fouling streams….

"One by one the nobles summoned their men and rallied to the king. There were many of us then, noble families. And when one fell, by default another would gain their rank. Our family shot from being minor nobles with only a small tract and fiefdom to some of the highest regarded nobles in a matter of months." She lugubriously shook her head. "Entire noble families were wiped out, their lands gobbled up by the voracious ogres until one day the king fell. And everyone looked to my father for leadership."

Sipping her tea, she looked down into the warm brew with sad, haunted eyes of cyan. "My father had no knowledge of warfare. He was a trader who made his fortune by the sea. In him our people saw no ray of hope, but he… we were all they had. In our final stand we, the last of the nobles and soldiers stood as the only defense against utter ruin. We had but a sliver of hope to win then day but even that was dashed when… _he _came," she spat wrathfully, her words becoming as icy as shards of a glacier.

"Through the ranks of the ogres _he _came, walking as though he had found a quaint garden path in some tranquil town. He was clad in a long… black flowing robe that covered his head. He came up to the gates and then he went through the gates like nothing I had ever seen. He disappeared a moment, came up to us, and…." Sucking in a deep breath, she pinched her eyes shut as the memory replayed with only the hue of blood to highlight the remembrance in her mind.

"I watched as with a flick of his hand he turned the guards to stone. I watched as our knights attacked him only to be turned to snails and crushed under his black boot. My father ran to attack, poor man, only for the beast to grab his neck and snap it in his hands like a twig. And then... there was only me and Gaston left alive. We both ran to attack, Gaston wielding a sword, I a mere dagger. He stood there, smiling under his hood as we came to rid him of his miserable life. When we were a hairsbreadth away he reached up his hands and... and…." Hand all a quiver, she placed her palm to her bereft chest. Hot tears slipped down her creamy cheek. "He plunged them into our chests and ripped out our hearts."

Biting her bottom lip to stave away a cry of anguish she forced herself to recover from the relived moment. "I knew I was dead then. I thought I was dead…. Seeing my father lying there I wish I had been dead. Yet there I stood. I looked in horror, in awe at my heart pulsing in his hands and he merely laughed. 'Two young, noble hearts. The last of their kind.' He said and I watched him weigh them in his hands like sacks of gold. 'Maleficent will pay me well for these two. Very well indeed'."

As she craned her head up once more, the tears brooked freely with the tale spilling from her haunted soul. "He killed our entire kingdom. Leaving only two… broken people alive. And for what? Spell components to sell to the highest bidder." Her lips twisted into a horrid sneer. "The last thing he said to us was, 'Don't worry. The regents might not be used for years. You too could live a little while longer.' He laughed this loud, horrid laugh and was gone.

"From then I and Gaston swore to ourselves a quest - to find a way to collect out hearts. We lived in constant fear and anger since then. I was always afraid to become amiable with anyone for fear that one day I would leave them alone just as my whole family had left me alone in death. I tried to strengthen myself in cool acceptance for the end. I wasn't the only one who was mutated by what had been stole. Gaston changed. No longer was he the same man. He channeled his crippling fear into utter arrogance and abysmal cruelty to others. I saw, little by little how those less than estimable habits fit him all too well and I was repulsed. Even still, we promised we would do whatever we could to get back our hearts. But we needed money… goods... help. We did know sailing, being a sea faring kingdom, and we took to piracy to help scrape up the gold and gather news of anything that could aid us. Our lot was a terrible one until we heard talk of a wishing dagger. We knew that was out ticket to claiming our hearts and painstakingly we gathered a crew, supplies, plans…."

Her words trailed off dourly as the rest of the story spoke for itself. That's where they were now. A ship laden with treasure and on the path to seek what had been so long lost.

The tea had stilled into coolness in their cups as the end of the tale finished. Hers scarcely touched in the terrible moment of remembrance.

Placing his empty cup down, the spinner looked up to her. His whisky brown orbs dances with tenderness. "I understand now," he muttered simply, his compassion for her welling mightily in him.

Everything she did made sense to him. She was cold because she thought that was the best way to be bereft of a heart.

"Then you understand how nothing excuses my ignoble deeds," she remarked stonily. "You understand thoroughly now all the evil I have done and will do and how I just don't care."

Of course just because of her ill fate did not mean she was right in her discourse. She had taken to slaying people and robbing them; of burning ships and sentencing men to die at her leisure. She had become a terror to achieve her ends.

Her reverie of erroneous misdeeds was cut short as a warm hand rested upon hers. Looking down, she saw his hand firmly clasp over her own. "You were not always as such," Rumpel remarked softly.

"How do you know?" Her blue eyes rose astoundingly to meet his brown.

His hands squeezed hers comfortingly. "I can tell," he reveled, his lips twitching into a small smile. "You were a good heart once. A pure heart. How you are not completely depraved is a testament to the goodness in you. You feel for what you've done. The deeds haunt you. You feel remorse and pain."  
>"I have no heart. I don't feel anything." Belle jerked her hand from under his and looked away to the carpeted floor. Her hand curled into an iron fist as though holding back the terror that surged up in a fount of icy abhorrence at herself.<p>

For the longest time she had been cold and unfeeling. Anger and the burning need of necessity had lorded over her tuning her into the calm, controlled, cold monster that she had become.

"You felt enough to kiss me," Rumpel observed softly. "You felt enough to display the greatest emotion of all."

Closing her eyes, the beauty swallowed a lump in her throat. "I can't explain that," she admitted in a tenuous whisper.

Indeed she couldn't explain why since he had arrived on the ship things inside her had been different. This wasn't her. She was not to be such and yet she felt like a lost child finally finding a familiar path to a long forgotten home.

"I can." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can feel though you try to deny your emotions. You were afraid to feel without your heart. Afraid you could perish any moment. So you built walls, tall, icy walls to protect from that. You told yourself only one thing mattered - the thing you had lost."

Worrying her bottom lips, she forced away the flood of tears. "But it's not the only thing that matters, is it?"

She did feel for him. More than she had ever felt for anyone ever before. He was like a ray of sunshine spearing through the black, crepuscular morass of her long barren chest. She wanted to bask in him and feel warmth again. He coaxed out what had lain forgotten and she clung to that speckle of feeling with all her being.

"You don't have to lie to yourself anymore. You don't have to pretend that you're heartless. You do have a heart," he murmured gently. "A heart is made up of more than a mass of flesh pulsing in your chest."

Slowly tuning to him, the beauty dared a small smile. "You rea-"

"Ship off the starboard bow!" a lookout's voice chimed sleepily from the crows nest dashing the small slant of hope in the beauty.

Face snapping back to the cold, impenetrable woman, Belle instinctively rose as the cold captain took all too familiar control. Talks of redemption and finding what had been there all along were pleasant but she was still a pirate and still a captain and still in the midst of a very dangerous pull between two wants.

Her eyes pinioned upon Rumpel, the only true window to her forgotten emotions. "Stay here," she ordered coolly and strapped on her poniard. "I'll make sure your son stays below."

"Belle, wait!" Rumpel called, trying to persuade the good in her, but too late.

Deaf to his plea, the beauty twisted away an in a hearts beat was gone.

The gray of day was just breaking through a mass of clouds in the east as Belle walked out. The sleepy crew lumbered and stumbled up from their quarters about the deck in dozy excitement to try and clear their sleep laden minds. A ship was akin to a hunter's brass horn in their brains, awakening them like dogs to a chase.

Spotting her on deck, Jefferson was immediately by her side. Holding out a silver looking glass, he pointed to the ever nearing ship, still dark in the creeping morn. "We didn't see the craft until the dawn. We'll be upon the boat in near twenty minutes if we keep this course and the wind keeps us, captain."

"Ready the crew them Mr. Jefferson," Belle ordered primly, her lips a thin pink pencil line. As he rushed to obey, the beauty lifted the glass to make out what sailed.

The ship was a single masted, little thing, unimpressive and dwarfish in the well known pirate infested waters. The small ship was akin to minnow against sharks in the waters only the best merchant crews dared sail. Never could the vessel outrun any well manned pirate crew. Which begged the question, what was the ship doing so far out?

The minutes seemed to tick by like seconds for Belle and the crew as they sailed close to the ship. Like a shadow of death, her three masted craft seemed to loom demise over the smaller vessel.

Up close the vessel was even more ragged than from afar. The sails were unkempt and the ropes frayed like a well played with toy ship. The mast was cracked and she would have bet her life the rudder was near useless. The only thing that didn't seem to be wrong with the ship was that no leaks were dragging her down, but whether that was a good or bad thing was impossible to tell.

All along the deck, a sorry looking gaggle of people stood out. Men and women with fearful, dirty faces looked up to them. Clothed in tattered rags and sacks on some they were a pitiful bunch scraped together to be called a crew.

The captain, who looked no more than a timid farmer that may have had a few years on sea to keep the ship just barely running, stood before them. A pink wool cap in his hand, he twisted the fabric nervously in his calloused grip.

"May… may we speak with your c-captain?" he asked timidly, his voice barely reaching them.

In reply the brusque crew of the _Rose _laughed. "Listen to him, he sounds like a little piglet," one jeered only to be met by a glare from the captain.

Grabbing rope rigging, Belle hoisted herself up to the railing to spy all the ship herself. A westerly breeze toyed playfully with her dark amber mane and fluttered her coat in the pleasant, chill wind. Face as impervious as a wall of ice she looked upon them, without pity or pleasure. "I am she," she reveled simply, neither enjoying nor despising her advantage and position over them and their paltry craft.

At once the captain fell to his knees. Looking up he clasped his hands together beseechingly. "Please… captain we're only refuges from a place called the One Hundred Acres Wood. A land far across the sea. A great and terrible beast rules our lands and we had need to escape our old home. We've sold mostly everything and have risked our very lives to come this far. We only have enough food and water to make the journey and some pieces of family heirlooms to sustain us on land. P-please let us go."

"A few pieces of heirlooms you say?" Belle asked, curiously, her voice wry and unreadable.

As if on commanded another of the refugees brought forth a chest. Made of old wood and clamped with rusted bands of steel the chest was laughably small for even a crew of their size.

Slowly opening the chest, the small captain revealed the minute treasure they carried. A few pieces of gold, some strands of yellowed pearls, and goblets of silver and some with sudden gems lingered in the chest.

"Well… that looks enough to pay the toll," a pirate laughed from the edge of the _Rose_.

Staring down at the pitiful treasure, the beauty stood in silent pondering. Her brow furrowed in clandestine lines, nearly unnoticed upon her visage. She did not feel as though the people upon the small ship were liars. In fact she felt…. What was that in her ghostly heart, she pondered… compassion…? Pity?

Turning away from their frightened faces she hopped down and looked at her boson. "Back on course Jefferson. Let them go."

"Let them go!" the entire crew seemed to roar simultaneously. All faces turning to her in unadulterated shock, the crew momentarily let the tiny ship slip their minds. Since when did Belle give the order to spare anyone?

Awed by their good fortune, the small ship bubbled with joy at their luck.

"Th-thank you!" the small captain squealed before the ship headed on their way to the Enchanted Forest.

Surprised beyond measure, the boson stared at her as though she were the insane one. "Captain…? You've never let a ship cross are path unmolested before. Never."

"Couldn't you see, Jefferson? They had little of worth," argued Belle her voice strictly unquestioning as though her logic was completely reasonable and her behavior nothing new to note. "What was in that chest wouldn't have been enough to by rounds for you all at the meanest tavern."

"Since when have you cared, cap'n?" Silver's voice broke in suspiciously through the crowd of pirates. "Last I knew ye aint never think about the size of a ship before or what spoils they had on 'em. We've taken smaller purses than that to be sure."

Vapidly, Belle turned to the cook. His eyes danced with suspicion she knew was all too accurate. She only hoped he did not suspect how far the sudden inclinations of chance burrowed.

Mouth a grim line, she turned from the cook to appeal to her confounded crew. "We didn't need that treasure," she explained, which was all too true. "I am in an auspiciously lenient mood today. In a few day's we will arrive for a feast beyond all feasts with as much trading, gambling, and drinking as any pirate could want. Let them and their troubles travel where they please. The sooner we get to where we need to be, the sooner we can enjoy ourselves."

Murmurs of agreement from the crew rose, steadily if uncertainly, with her appealing words. She made sense and there was a grand celebration in their wake. What need did they of one pathetic ship in the face of that?

Relieved that her gamble had won, the beauty ordered a cask of grog to be opened for the crew for good measure and traipsed back to her cabin.

Her pulse thumped with emotions that had not taken her since her heart had been stolen. Silver had been right. She hadn't thought of the sizes of ships or their needs before. She hadn't thought of the feelings of a cripple or his son before. She hadn't though of much of anything but her quest. She had always been uncaring of everyone's plight.

But… she clutched a hand to her chest, the Belle of old would have cared.

Was that Belle… coming back? Was she already there? Had she always been there, fettered at the base of her soul, just waiting for someone to come and free again?

Icy shivers slithered down her spine at the thought she barely dared think. Anguish tensed in her just as the unknown. Was that moment… in that moment had the old Belle, taken away with her heart… had that part of her slipped out of some unknown crag? Was the long numb feeling he wrought bringing back that forgotten woman?

Frightened to death and thrilled to life all at once with the thought, the beauty reentered her cabin. She was feeling again. Truly, wonderfully, feeling. Shutting the portal with a quiet click, she almost dazedly strode over to the bed.

The tea tray was cleared from the bunk and Rumpel sat their nervously. Of course he had to be trying to figure everything out himself. He had his own heart to place in order and his own troubles to combat along with his own feelings to maintain.

Oh but what feelings they were!

Slowly, her feelings in stormy turmoil of terror and glee, Belle strode near and finally stood before him. Her eyes scanned him ruthlessly as though finally deciding on some thought. He was a precious man and the feelings he wrought in her! He had brought light to those emotions again and standing there, she felt them all pour out in a torrent of feeling.

Placing a hand on his chest, the beauty pushed him back as her mouth sealed unto his in a kiss in the greatest feeling of all.

He had started the entire thing, she thought as they struggled to devoid each other of their cloths as their mouths savored the sweet kisses. Perhaps he was the means to help coax out the part of her long forgotten, she pondered through a haze of lust before the thought, like her coat, was stripped away.

If nothing else, he made her feel _something_, and not for all the world and all the treasures upon her would she give that up again.


	16. Pirates Paradise

"You know Rumpelstiltskin, I like you." Belle muttered sleepy as she lay her head down on Rumpelstiltskin's chest. Delicate hand laid upon his chest, she snuggled closer to him as though to steal all his warmth and give back all her heartfelt affection in return. A content smile arrayed her tired face making her seem not the crew captain she proclaimed to be.

In her dreamy, sated state she looked akin to someone returned. The Belle that lay there was not new, no, but she was a Belle long too lost for anyone to have recalled. She was once more the gentle Belle, the sweet woman before her life had been cast down in utter ruin.

In reply, light chuckles softly sputtered from Rumpel's barely smiling lips. Replete, one arm behind his head, the captive spinner stared up at the dark rafters in lazy amusement. "Oh you do now? I had no idea." he teased gently and planted a small kiss on the crown of her cinnamon tresses.

Since that first day she had come to him, searching for that woman she had been and finding her in a way through him, many, many more hours like them had come after that second kiss.

They stole away whenever they could afford and mostly every night besides. The crew was completely ignorant of their doings in mostly all regards; a blessing if Belle had ever known one. They suspected nothing for Belle had often kept their captive tending to odd needs or simply talking to him through long hours of the night long before their passions. Now that their activity had only intensified, they still thought nothing odd of their nightly rendezvous. Whatever happened was simply Captain Belle being her odd self.

Only Silver, the ever disapproving cook, had some inkling but he dared not voice them to his captain.

As for Belle, the time with the spinner was a blessing. Every moment he was near her, she felt like her old self. Too long she had been out of sorts and he was alike a clothier mending her holes and tears and flaws one day at a time. She could not have enough of him, his soft shy smiles, his quiet laughter that was more heartening than the most vivaciously of laughs; simply his everything that drew the old Belle up to him like a flower straining to the spring sun.

For Rumpelstiltskin he found companionship in Belle. She was a kindred heart and his mutual feelings swelled for her like an incoming tide. Her life had gone as awry as his. They were worlds apart but cut from the same cloth. He felt a part of her. He felt… dare he even think so… love for her?

Pain struck like a blazing lash across his heart at the secret thought that nibbled at the edges of his emotions. Surely though, even if he felt such ardor for her, she did not feel the same. She liked him well enough, true, but she said nothing of love for her captive. She did not reciprocate his emotions. And why would she? Beyond all that had transpired she was still in the prime of her young adult life, beautiful beyond compare, still of noble blood, and one of the most feared pirates who ever set sail to sea.

On the other hand he was a coward, a cripple, a peasant, and beyond that not even close to her age. Belle would undoubtedly seek far more noble, better, handsome men than he to endow with her love.

That was not to say she felt nothing for him, but perhaps not love.

He could be one cared for perhaps a great deal by her. He could be to her a consoling consort or concubine of sorts, but not a man she loved explicitly with all her heart as he felt in his for surely she did not hold her emotions in the same realm as he. Surely not.

At any rate, beyond the pain of his love being insufficient as well as himself, he felt assured his and his sons places were secured under her judgment. Belle was a good woman, he knew that as much as he was beginning to know the woman of old. She would not sell them now or even consider the matter. Whatever their fate was to be they would not be met with that terrible hand.

Perhaps, he ruminated as well now that their lives were secure, being a lover to her would not be so bad if everything else went right in their quest. There were tales of men and women who married and still had a handful of concubines and lovers tucked away. That was the way of nobles. Why could he not be that to her if she did not share his feelings? He would be miserable but just as content with that fate than any other and far happier in that lot if she decided to follow that course than being sold.

Eased by the thoughts of the perhaps smother, if not more painful for himself, path laid before him, the spinner pushed away the sting of his, more than likely, rebuffed affections and another fate that could very well meet him. They did not matter so much at the moment with her curled into him, drowsy from a long night of soft words and even softer touches.

Sighing, Belle nuzzled him affectionately, unknowingly breaking his train of thought. "I wish we could stay like this all day."

How she wished she could have just been nestled into him all day, pretending that her life was not a wreck…. Pretending that he might find love with her who had done so much wrong to him.

"So do I," contentedly murmured the spinner. "Your bed is more comfortable that any hammock," he returned playfully, his voice flecked with mischief.

Lifting up her head, her lips quirked into a smirk, the beauty swatted the cripple playfully. "So you're just using me to get a soft bunk away from everyone else? Shame on you."

"Well what can I say?" he grunted as they both began to shift out of bed. "This piracy business has washed off on me. I'm simply ruthless. Stealing your bed, stealing away time we don't have…."

Time had well passed for them to be up, but everyday they seemed to stretch out a minute more, daring their time and daring to get caught. Both had work to do, though to say they were eager to part would have been a gross lie.

Standing, completely bereft of any clothes, Belle slowly turned back to him. Her eyes searched him as he sat there on the edge of the bed. He did not stare at her like she was some saucy tavern wench only meant for those lustful urges. He looked at her the same way he would if she were fully dressed. His opinion of her did not chance with the step they had taken. He saw who she was before their passions and after.

And perhaps that was the most alluring look of all he could give her.

Smiling faintly, the beauty cocked a brow, her playfulness replaced with a flare of seduction. "You are far from ruthless in that regard." Despite the need to start the day, she gently pushed him back unto the bed. Chuckling as she saw his lips curved into the same nervous smile, she straddled him, and peppered his jaw with a trail of kisses. "In other ways… well we can agree you are a trifle rut-"

She got no further as a large fist hammered at her door.

Kisses at a stop, a small sigh flew from the captain. Amused smile upon her lips the beauty pressed her forehead against his instead of meeting his lips in a tender joining. "Never fails," she chuckled in mock exasperation and rose, illiciting a groan of cheated passions from the spinner.

Quickly throwing on her long ago shed tunic and breeches, she padded to the door with all cool dignity and opened the portal but a crack.

From his place at the edge of the bed, the spinner could identify the voice of the newly promoted boson Jefferson. "I just thought you should know the Paradise is now just in sight - south by southwest. We should be there by late morning perhaps early afternoon."

"Thank you Jefferson." The cold, calculating captain replaced the loving Belle in a mere blink. An entirely different person seemed to replace the woman who had just been there upon the bed, leaving nothing but the same flesh but a far contrasting person. "Tell all crew to prepare to go ashore once this ship is docked."

Without a word, Jefferson nodded and strode off happily. "Captain's given leave for all ashore once the ships docked! Hurry up and we might get there before the best parts are over!" He announced and bellowed like a circus master as he told them the good news and the generosity of their captain.

The words prodded the strange crew more than any thought of punishment could have ever attracted. All hands rushed to deck in a flurry of exuberance. Scarred calloused hands hoisted sails and strung riggings until the wires and ropes were as taunt as their eagerness. With diligence born of years on sea, the eked out the most speed they could from the three masted beauty and with good cause.

For an entire two weeks that would be encompassed by every vice and sin they could forget about their misery. There would be tokes from every exotic plant dried and put to fire, ales and spirits from ever corner of the world, all the food that one could eat, and every sort of gambling game and contest to be imagined were all waiting for them at the Paradise.

Shaking her head in fond amusement of the crew, Belle closed the door again. With the closing of the door, the Belle of old seemed to arose again, replacing the captain, though that change wouldn't last for quite so long.

Now up without a chance to sneak in another delicious hour, the beauty strolled about her room to find a suitable pair of clothes for their arrival to the Paradise. As a captain of a successful ship there were still modes of conduct to be adhered to as much as in any legitimate court. She could scarcely waltz into the Paradise like any low, miserable pirate. She was captain and she represented her crew where they could not or simply had no desire too.

Recognizing their time was over as he watched her pick over her attire, the spinner rose once more from the bed. Colleting his own balled up, shabby clothes that lay nearby, he slowly garbed himself as he spent the precious few moments alone with her.

"What is the Paradise he spoke of?" he inquired as he fitted his tunic over his head. His body made a slight frisson as he recalled the hands that had so eagerly taken off the tunic in the night, but he pushed the all too pleasant thought away until some other, appropriate, time.

Picking out a gold colored shirt and sea coat along with light brown breeches, the beauty absently explained the boson's words. "The place we're going is known as the Pirate's Paradise. A titanic column of porous rock makes up the citadel. Regina, a fair pirate in her own right burrowed, out massive chunks of the monolith with her magic and created the pirates paradise. No king has penetrated the fortress and few know exactly where to look, even if it is a giant stone pillar out in the middle of nowhere. There is a safe haven for all pirates there and because of that Regina makes us all pay a yearly tribute for the use. She's taken to calling herself the pirate queen and many have willingly come under her banner. Her magic is strong and so is her fortress. No one can hardly blame her for taking the name and many don't even refute her claims and edicts."

"So all that treasure is to pay her fee?" Rumpel slipped on his breeches and stood to button them.

Belle's lips perched into a sly grin. "Oh no we're exempt. She's found a liking to one of our crew and favors us in a way. Her and Robin Hood are… cozy to one another. She even makes sure his son is well cared for while he is away."

Abruptly her smile fell at the thought of why Robin was there. He was to use his wish to obtained for her whatever it was that held her back from being a family with him. He would have done anything for Regina, which was why he was on her crew away from his boy. All he wanted to know was why Regina held back and how he could mend that so they could be together. He had sailed with her so long, but could she now go through with things so all of them could get their wishes? Now with Rumpel tendering her heart could she possibly….?

Shaking the thought away, to cowardly to face the ugly truth bared plainly before her, the beauty padded back over to the now dressed spinner. Resting her hands on his hips, she leaned up and pecked a little kiss on his lips. "There. Hopefully all your questions have been answered. Now, I have to get ready, and you need to see Silver before he starts to wonder where his assistant has gone."

"Of course, captain," Rumpel relayed mischievously as he returned her kiss. Grabbing his crutch, the spinner limped away in the bright morning all smiles and his heart all a flutter.

Once he was gone, the beauty felt her smile fall back into the tearing emotions and decisions that pulled her in two separate directions. Her heart felt twisted with malicious claws, squeezing out every ounce of emotion.

Head downcast, she cursed herself as she prepared. "Keep making this harder on yourself, Belle. You deserve every bit of heartache you have."

~8~8~

A wide smile, Rumpel could not erase, stretched upon his lips as he moved out upon the deck. Holding his crutch close, he scooted around and out of the way of the racing pirates and the racing Bae as he made his way down to the galley.

Silver wouldn't be cross at his tardiness, he hoped with every step down into the cooks liar.

Once down into the chef's realm, the spinner stood shocked at the change that swamped the kitchen. The galley was in a shockingly more ruinous state as Rumpelstiltskin stared at the ever hot, dim ship's kitchen. Knowing he was needed for the morning meal, he had made all haste to the galley after parting from Belle but the utter chaos was not what he expected.

Pots filled with only Silver knew, bubbled angrily over the ramshackle stove and the heavy scent of old fish and some seaweed sloughed almost chokingly through the air. All around the floor and benches sacks and chests and bric-a-brac were all strewn in a disbelieving mess. A boot lay in a pot, a faded red scarf hung over a bench and even some toy boat taken in some long ago heist lay upturned by his feet.

Confused, the spinner inched inside closer as though he could spy the tornado of junk that had swept through. His eyes darted about in misunderstanding at the absolute disorder of things.

"Oh there ye are lad!" Silver bellowed as he came down the galley behind the cripple.

Burdened with a large sea chest, the cook valiantly struggled inside with his load and laid the great trunk, with a great thump, on the trench table.

Leaning a fat arm on the black, iron banded top, the pirate chef wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. A large smile pulled from ear to ear as he looked down at the cripple. "Did ye hear the news? We're near the Paradise and no mistake."

"Yes I heard." Rumpel inched forward; more curious than nervous. "But what is all this?" He motioned a hand to the junk all about and then the trunk.

Silver beamed proudly. "I'm just taking out some old junk to see what can be traded there at the feast. I was rifling through me share and I thought of ye." Slapping open the dark trunk, the cook proudly revealed a stash of clothes and fabrics. Fine silk in large bolts and even gossamer worth half a fortune sat unused in the chest.

Uncaring for those, the cook turned to the chest and riffled through the storage of the wealthy goods. Hands pushing away and tossing out fabrics to make the richest of women shed a tear, he muttered and mused thoughts to himself. "A ye... No… not this... Nay… What's this here…? No…. Ah ha!"

Victoriously the chef brought forth a long blue coat. Gold thread trimmed the wide cuffs and the edges and the buttons looked like refurbished gold coins. A tunic went along with the coat as well as a pair of blue trousers to finish the noble looking set.

"I thought these could fit ye. They're not nothin' too fancy for ye, but if'n I'm in a fair drunk mood, I may let you off for a few hours every couple of days," he explained generously to his charge.

Eye pinioned to the fair, far too elegant clothes, the spinner forced his gaze to Silver. "I'm honored Silver but….I though everyone was allowed to get off when we reached the stone?"

Of course he had not forgotten he was a prisoner still, but on a large rock in the middle of the sea chock full of pirates with some of the fastest ships in all the realms, what chance did he have of escape?

"For most of the crew, aye, but who do ye think makes the feast? Who do ye think cooks and serves and doles out the grub? Cooks and their assistants gather one and all to make this thing happen! I can spare ye or yer boy and since he's sweet on that Emma lass…. Children don't stay young forever you know. I thought ye would give the time to yer boy to let 'im fancy the lass without much to do."  
>Smiling brightly, the spinner clapped the cook on the shoulder. "Thank you Silver. I know Bae will be happy to see Emma again. I'm glad you took the liberty." He understood Silver's reasoning perfectly and much preferred already being told what was his duty instead of making Bae feel guilty his father would be serving the pirates.<p>

Besides, he was certain Belle would reimburse him for his time when she could….

~8~8~

The sun had stood near midday when _The Forgotten Rose _sailed into the Paradise port. Hewn in the middle of two long jutting reaches of stone, the port looked like a maw of some nefarious water demon awaiting for them to dock in long ago decayed holes where fangs should have been.

Warm, sometimes crude, greeting were met all around as ships came in from every corner of the world. Schooners, single sails, caravels, and every sort of ship bobbed along in the dock or vied to make port. Flags raised high and ships cleaned to show off their luster and finery, the entire dock was a sight of festivity itself to behold.

On the rocks that led into the column of stone, the streets were filled with pirates, privateers, marauders, and buccaneers just as grandiose and varied as the boats they jump off. Bodies of murderous men and women moved everywhere going on every sort of expedition to find spirits or other vices all for the having.

A small smile titled Belle's lips as the _Rose _was finally set at anchor and firmly settled in the stone dock. Anchored in the shadow of the right stretch of the port, she chose her positioning well and with calculated forethought before they had decided to dock.

Though they had too all be on amiable terms at the Paradise. Some were still enemies and a captain wasn't worth their salt if they didn't try to find friends to dock with on either side.

"Well look who just sailed in." David smiled handsomely as he swaggered to the edge of the _Charming_. Docked on their left, the seemed to have left the space purposefully open for Belle and her crew, which in fact, they aimed to do every year.

Belle grinned admirably to the man and gave a tilt of her head to Snow walking up. "Always good to be beside friends."

"Truer words, Captain Belle," a crewwoman from the _Charming_, Ruby laughed as she began to walk down the gangplank. Her eyes were glued to a man who traipsed down from the _Roses _side.

All three captains chuckled simultaneously as their crews rushed down from their ships. Even Bae left the ship, his normal anger, replaced by awe as he followed Jefferson away to the workings of the pillar.

Shaking her head, Snow smiled softly and looked back to Belle. "So you'll be joining us at Regina's ball then?"

Every year Regina had a ball, a mockery of some noble tradition for pirates. She liked to think of herself as a regal queen and just so like to show flashes of royalty where she could. She had one every year and mostly the captains attended for finer food and for a bit more refined fun before they joined their coarse crews.

"Perhaps not." Belle tossed her head, her lips turning into a frown. "I have much to do."

Snow rolled her eyes. "You always say that and then you stay in your cabin for two weeks straight. You know the ball is the best thing here for the first night. The dancing and the fireworks!"

"Even if I wanted to go I have no one to go with," Belle clamored for any excuse to the only woman who might have been called a real friend.

Frowning at the beauty, the fairest of them all did not let her get away with such a paltry excuse. "Come on Belle. Even if that was the reason you know there are half a dozen captains who'd leap at the chance to escort you." Sigh, she smiled again at her friend. "Just… think about it."

"If that would help then yes, I'll give going some thought," Belle placated gently.

Of course she had no intention of going, but to pull the tenacious Snow from the argument they shared year in and year out was a welcome.

"That's all I ever as-" Snow was interrupted as the pounding of young feet stamped over the deck.

"Hello captain Belle." Emma appeared on deck beside her father. Leaning over the rail, the young lass waved at the captain, though her eyes seemed searching. Of course she respected the pirate captain but that wasn't who she really had in mind to wave too, though she would have died rather than admit that truth.

The beauty hid a smile, already reading the young woman's thoughts. "Emma." She dipped her head accordingly in greeting. "Bae's already gone to shore. He went north with Jefferson. You may catch him."

Heat rose to the young Emma's face at the well concluded words to her actions. Raising her head a bit, she feigned a scowl. "I only want to talk to him to see if he's going to apologize yet," she lied soundly.

"Then go find him before he finds another cabin girl to fight with," her mother teased and nudged her head to shore.

Quick as a monkey, the pirate princess nimbly made her way to land. Her feet moved with acrobatic precision as she scaled taunt topes and beams and landed expertly on the rock docks. With one wave to her beloved father, the girl sped off through the flowing river of pirates to track down Bae.

Proud parents watching their daughter, their eyes followed her until she couldn't be seen amongst the pirates. Once she was out of sight they turned back to Belle only to see her cabin door close as she walked inside.

"Dances…." Belle spat curmudgeonly as she retreated back to her cabin. Who needed dances. Besides she had too much work to do, to much to be prepared for if they were to go on their quest after all.

But how she felt about Rumpel….

Shaking her head, the beauty turned to look back at the door, her mind caught in indecision. Perhaps if anything the ball could take her mind off what plagued her so. If just for one night….

~8~8~

The night had long fallen since the _Rose _had made port in the Paradise. More ships had sailed in and more bodies bloated the stone tower in the middle of the sea. The pillar was bursting with pirates and so too were the kitchens.

Far below the proper of the Paradise, the kitchens stood like refurbished dungeons in the base of the stone. Three huge tunneled out pockets made the kitchens and ever though the size of them was enormous beyond compare all three were packed with pirates and food and heat.

Different languages bellowed through the air along with the smells of all different types of food ranging from the plain to the exotic. Fruits were heaped in carts, meat enough to feed a small army hung on racks, spices filled large barrels and there were enough pots and pans to sink a boat!

The large kitchens were a swarm of excitement, carriers and chaos, but somehow, some miracle, food was flowing up and progress was moving in a blur. The pirates were not unused to the flurry and could work through like experts, but Rumpel was completely lost in the frenzy.

In the great kitchens of the Paradise Rumpel fell far out of his league. Dozens upon scores of pirate cooks and helpers toiled about. The kitchen he had been tasked to was a beehive of mayhem all strung together with pots, pans and dirty dishes. Half the time he couldn't understand a cook yelling at him and the other half he still didn't know what to do.

Somehow, someone had pushed him to the job of peeling and there he sat in a corner doing a job to suit him just fine in the frenzy of activity.

Steadily doing his simple chore, the spinner had time enough to think. His mind wandered to his son, no doubt fraternizing with Emma. And Belle…. Eyes faraway for a moment he imagined not being in a kitchen but with her in her cabin with her wrapped in her arms.

"Ho there Rumpel." Silver slapped him on the back breaking him out of his reverie. "Yer faring alright! No one stabbed ye in frustration I see!"

Smiling nervously the spinner sliced another peel into the growing pile. "I've been peeling potatoes for three hours now. Not bad work; keeps me off my leg."

Truth be told there wasn't much he could do. His legs was an inhibition. They needed people who were swift, rarely for those who could barely pull their weight.

As though reading his mind, the cook sighed and tucked his thumbs under his belt. "Ah ye've done alright." He fingered his chin thoughtfully. "Ye've done everything asked of ye so far and done 'em well. I think that'd be enough for the day. I tell ye what, there's a dance up on the third tier. Every who's who will be there. Grab your gear and get up there."

"Me…." Rumpel pointed to himself. "But I'm not anyone important."

Silver waved a hand. "That doesn't matter none. Everything's a farce anyway. They're all dirty killers just all shined up. The lowest pirate can attend if he looks the part." He laid a hand on Rumpel's shoulder. "Now ye get up there!"

Shocked by the kindness the spinner put down the knife and rose to face the hulking man. Could he really attend such a thing? "Silver… thank-"

"Don't thank me, lad you'll have more dishes than you have life to wash when you get back!" he chuckled and pushed the spinner off to go and prepare for the ball.

~8~8~

"Bad idea, Belle," the beauty murmured to herself as she entered the ballroom. Dressed in the gold she had picked out before, the beauty surveyed the room as she slid along the wall.

Nearly every famous captain was present. Snow, David, Regina, Abigail and so many others that would make a realm quiver in fear.

Scanning the room a few times over, the beauty tried to make herself as invisible as possible for the moment. She never stepped into anything unexpected. No, better to find a place to moor herself and try to let the thoughts flee from her.

Spotting a place by a large table heaped with food, the beauty began to make her way over and stake out those who came and went. She had taken only a few steps to the long banquet table when a voice oh so familiar stopped her.

"Captain." The voice of Rumpelstiltskin stooped her in her tracks.

Frozen, the beauty turned her head to the right in awe.

Standing near a hewn out window, the spinner she had taken captive, only far more cleaned up than she had ever seen, stood the picture of a gentleman. His hair was washed and combed through, his skin free of the grime and dirt of the ship and he wore a suit of clothes that were fit for noble.

Looking at him, here eyes wide, mouth partially hanging open, all sour thoughts fled from her mind. Her insides melted like wax to pool where the butterflies danced in her stomach.

She had never seem him so… dashing before.

"Rumpel… what…." She barely managed to find words, much less voice them aloud, afraid that whatever spell that was upon her would break.

Smiling nervously, he bowed his head a bit. "Ah… Silver he managed to find these for me. They are far too ornate I know. After helping in the kitchen all afternoon and most of the night he gave me the rest of the time and since if anyone looks nice enough anyone can go I thought if he gave me the night I would go to a real ball."

He didn't expect to do much but gawk, but he wanted to see how these pirates who pretended to be the high class of their ignoble profession acted. If they were to go on a quest that could end in death then was there harm in being in a little of the fun?

Silent in shock for a moment Belle merely stared, trying to figure out if her heart would leap out of her chest or merely still at the sight of him.

Judging her silence as a poor sign the spinner bowed his head shamefully. "I heard you weren't going to come. If you're embarrassed that I'm here I'll just go back to the ship…."

"No… heaven no." Belle placed a hand on his arm. "I was just… surprised to see you. You look absolutely handsome, Rumpel. I didn't know you cleaned up so well." Letting that good Belle creep out, she smiled tenderly at the man. "I'm very glad I decided to come now. I'll have to thank Snow for her insistence one of these days."

Now the surprised, the spinner looked at her with incredulity. "So you don't care…?"

"Not at all," Belle replied truthfully. Not even if all the crew were there would she have minded. "Robin's the only one here and he's off wooing his beloved. Even if they were all here I wouldn't care. I'm not ashamed of you, Rumpel."

Though she had wanted the secret kept. There, in that moment she cared nothing of anything else. Her want to come to the ball and forget had worked for she only saw him and him alone.

"I might be poor company," the spinner admitted bashfully in a shrug. "I can't dance and this is a ball."

Soft smile creeping upon her lips, the beauty shook her tresses. "I never cared to dance anyway. Let's head over there by the banquet table and we can talk."

"Not about food I hope," Rumpel chuckled as he walked with her to the table. "I've had enough of cooking and food for the rest of the night."

Brazenly, Belle slid her arm into his. Hugging close, she looked up at him and chuckled. "We're in a contrast then. I haven't eaten anything today I'm starving."

"Trust me, when you've seen seven abominably hairy pirate cooks making all this, the appetite is soon-" He got no further as they ran into a couple coming their way.

The familiar face of the laugh women dead in front of him made his blood run cold. The man whose arm hers was wrapped around brought a fear and shame he scarcely knew deep into his heart.

Before him stood a woman he had years ago tried to forget.

Milah.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: My o my this was a big 'un!  
><em>


	17. Old Flames

"Rumpel…," quiet shock expelled from Milah's lips in a soft breath of absolute astonishment. Her eyes narrowed slightly as though to discern what she saw before her was real or some witches figment drawn from the annals of her mind to torment her.

He couldn't have been there, standing before her as in days of old. This couldn't be her former husband Rumpelstiltskin the cripple and the coward whom she had grown to despise and hate since the day he had limped back from the battle field a dishonored man.

But there he was as same as always, dressed rather finely, standing there before her in the Pirates Paradise with the captain of _The Forgotten Rose _on his arm.

Eyes shrouded with confusion, the spinner gazed upon the woman he had given to sorrow and egregious fate never to see again. He had always felt a guilty, sharp pang in his heart that he couldn't have freed her from the pirate's ignoble clutches. The pirate whose arm was entwined with hers.

Gaze flickering between, Rumpel, Milah, and an oddly mute captain Killian Jones, the beauty felt curiosity rise in a guttering conflagration in her mind. Clearing her throat, she held out a hand to the pirates before them. "Rumpel this is Captain Killian and his wife Milah." Her gaze flickered back to the astonished trio. "But I assume you've already met?"

Wife? The fine edged title stabbed like a poisoned knife straight into Rumpel's chest. The word couldn't have caught him more off guard than if the entire floor had caved in under him and swallowed him to the epicenter of the world.

"Wife," the word that inflicted so much pain stumbled from his trembling lips. "I… I don't understand." She couldn't have possibly been his wife. The blackguard of a miserable pirate had stolen her from her home!

Turning her attention to Rumpel, the beauty calmly explained the situation. "Yes, I've known them for a very long time now. I was at their wedding."

"That can't be," Rumpel choked what felt like a thick, disgusting wad of tar down his gullet. His gut roiled with almost a physical sickness twisted his innards. "This pirate captured her and took her aboard his ship. She was stolen against her will and I couldn't get her back. She was my wife. A wife that was stolen."

His wife…? Ineffable surprise rocked Belle like a battering gust of foul hurricane wind. Of course she had realized Rumpel had probably had a wife though the matter never came up. Bae had not simply sprung out of the ground like a cabbage. He had to have had a matron, but whoever that was she had merely suspected the woman died in unfortunate childbirth or some other horrid fate met her.

She had never given thought to his wife's whereabouts, and was more shocked she hadn't given the matter more consideration until that moment, than of the woman herself standing there before her.

For a moment she could not believe the words he spoke, she dared not, until she saw the looks upon the pair's faces. Guilt and shame hewed deeply into the faint lines of the faces of Milah and Killian. Their eyes darted about like thieves caught and made to stand before royals for their crimes.

Everything was true, she knew looking at them. Every hard word the spinner said was accurate and just as sharp as a newly forged spear.

Staring at the quiet, eye averting Milah, the spinner horridly put the pieces together. "You were never captured were you?" he asked lowly, his tone more accusatory than inquisitive. "You abandoned your husband and your son…."

"Please… Rumpel… not here," Milah pleaded lowly, her eyes darting about as though enemies hedged her from all sides.

They were all filthy pirates one and all, yes, but she dared not speak that shame even aloud to them. Her dishonor was too much to speak about like some pelagic trope. She wished them spoken only in private with the few who had an inkling of what terrible deed she had done.

Clearing his throat, Killian put a protective arm around the woman, his wife. His slight squeeze indicated and ardent love for the woman as well as primal possession that came from any man to the woman he loved "Milah's right, mate. Let's take this outside. There are dozens of private balconies over which to watch the ocean and talk. We can explain everythin there."

For all the surprises, that seemed the best option, Belle admitted and began to usher the shocked Rumpel by the arm to the stone stairs to lead to the balconies. Entangled relation or not they still had to be amiable in the presence of all around.

Numbly walking up the curvature of stone stairs and to the balcony, Rumpel's mind whirled at one thousand knots. After all that time, carrying such a burden….

The stone aperture where they arrived was a medium sized hole in the wall far enough up to dissuade many drunks but only a short trip down the stairs if one hurried. Burrowed out, the bottom part of the slate gray ledge had been left and stone had been replaced as an ornate barrier around the scalloped shaped edge.

On the balcony, the waters could be seen for leagues upon leagues in all their sable luster. The black ocean undulated like a dark mourners shroud surrounded by the pinnacle that stuck out like a hags nose in the center. Only flecks of moonlight shimmered off the black main, creating flecks of white-gold all through the sable, placid veil.

Rocking on his feet, the spinner and his captain came to a stop at the edge of the balcony and turned around to face the entering, runaway couple. Despite the fine blue clothes he seemed to collapse in on himself as the timid spinner once more. His free, worn, calloused hand nervously wrenched against his wooden crutch as he looked upon Milah with watery eyes so filled with emotion he could tell Belle nearly felt her heart break in twain with the overabundance of his confusion and hurt.

"I understand why you left me," he explained finally, his voice shaky as the will that assiduously held back a wall of emotions in his chest. "I am a coward. You despised me after I came back from war a disgraced man. Though that hurts more than the wound ever did, I understand. I can forgive that. I probably deserve that shame." Slipping his arm from Belle's, he limped a step nearer and looked dead into Milah's astounded eyes. His bottom lips quivered tremulously as striations ran against the force that held his emotions at bay. "Now what I can't understand is how you could abandon our son! He did nothing to deserve his mother abandoning him!" he bit lowly, his voice as burdened with feeling as the pregnant clouds of a coming storm.

Baelfire. The thought of the boy made Milah's breath catch in her throat. A long line of thorns for all her sins snarled around her heart, their spikes digging in with every hurt word. "I didn't want to Rumpel," she explained shamefully, her crystal eyes welling with tears. "Had it been anyone else in the world I would have never dreamed of leaving, but I was miserable, my heart dragged on the ground everyday. I couldn't stand the sight of you. I couldn't stand the jeers and whispers at the villages. Everywhere, everyday I heard the name Cowards wife spoken like an ignoble title."

"I found myself in constant sadness; there was neither light nor joy in you or Bae. I tried to make things work, Rumpel. I begged you every day to let us move away where none knew our names or our past, and you were always afraid too. I was in the darkest despair and then… Killian. He lifted me from that. He made me happy; he gave new life to me and filled me with hope and happiness again. I found, un-like with you I could stick through him with any hardship. He was my true love." She shook her head. "This had nothing to do with Bae. You don't know how long I've cried and dreamed of holding him again."

"We had… always talked about going back for him," Killian offered shamefacedly to the spurned husband in whose wife he had found a true love. Like any good husband he seemed intent to affirm her words.

Never turning an eye to him, the spinner shook his head. Is eyes clasped to Milah as though she had spoken the words. "But you didn't. You left him. Better you had told me you despised me to the very core instead of that Milah. If we had not had a son I would have let you go without a word. I would have been glad you left for your sake. I would have wished you well and hoped you found what you sought." The tears came them, hot fat drops that spilled from his sallow cheeks. "But for our _son_, I limped down to the docks that day I heard the pirates had taken a female captive. I humiliated myself; I would have subjugated myself to free you. I was laughed at, cursed at, called a coward who didn't deserve you by the man you now call husband. I _begged _him to let you go, thinking that you had been captured. Coward that I am that was all I could do. But I did what I could to let our son have an undivided home. I did everything for Bae and you couldn't see the honor in yourself to stay with him. For all of the pain, were things truly that bad, Milah?"

Pain slashed fangs into Milah's heart at the tale she would have rather soon forgot. She had wanted to slip away quietly, without him suspecting until too late, but he had come and she had watched all from the holes in the cargo hold. She had cried for the poor man but her course was set. "For me, yes, they were," she responded lowly, shamefully as she looked down at her hands like a caught youngling. Suddenly looking up again and pushed on questions of her own.

He had every right and more to accost her for answers, but then again so did she. His presence was still a mystery. "Was it because of my faux 'imprisonment' that you set to sea? Is this why you joined up with a pirate crew?" Milah shot back, her heart in veritable tatters laying at her feet. Rumpel had always been soft spoke but his words were sharper than the finest damask dagger, slicing away at the most tender parts of her emotion. He wove words like he did his wool, making them cut despite the turgid tone. "Did you join up just to try to set me free? Or did you finally decided to run?"

"We were captured!" Rumpel roared, his voice large and gluttonous with anger despite his small, lanky frame. Rarely did he ever lose his temper but when he did the power that fed through him was always a shock for the accused to behold. Eyes on fire, he gestured as though he could play the entire story our for her. "We were taken from our village! Bae was taken to be a cabin boy. Unlike you I still fought for him and I was taken along as a prisoner as well."

Milah gasped as her eyes few to Belle then back to Rumpel. Captives were nothing uncommon but when that captive was her son. "You mean he's here… now?"

"Yes," Rumpel divulged blandly, his voice rife with bitter contempt.

Clasping her hands together at her chest she seemed to be pleading to her former husband. "OH I have missed him, every moment of everyday. If I could just see my son again…."

"I told him you were dead," the spinner revealed miserably, his eyes turned away as though he could not bear the sight of her after his spent spurt of fury. "That was the only way I knew to dampen the blow that I could not rescue you; that I so early as a father had failed him and his mother."

Tears trailed down her eyes. "But still… Rumpel…."

"Absolutely not," Belle broke her, her voice as hard as the rock on which they stood. "Young master Baelfire is my captive and my cabin boy. I give you no right to see him. Rumpel loves his son more than himself. I have seen that. He would never put so much pain on his son, knowing that his mother is still alive. If you have any sense now, you'll know better than to go running off with your emotions and stay away before Bae gets hurt anymore."

On her intervention, Killian rose to defend his wife. "Hurt anymore? I don't think that's fair. He's on a pirate ship and not of his free will. A lad without his freedom? That ranks pretty high up there in hurtful."

"Freedom…," Milah murmured, her mind scrambling with an idea that had been planted there with the opportune word. Looking to Belle, she gaze at her with a mothers pleading. "If there is anything I can do for my son let it be this. We have gold and jewels. We will pay you handsomely for Baelfire. Please I want my son to be free, to be happy, and to live a life he sees fit."

A scream that only rings out in the most dreaded of nightmares lodged tightly in Rumpel's throat at the frightening offer. The fear that had kept him awake some nights and the warning of Silver of his fate all clambered back into his head, reaching to the forefront of his mind with glinting claws of steel.

Frenzied panic clawed manically at his heart. Anxiousness that almost felt like bursting from his chest and flying wildly filled every spare space in his lanky body. He could have truly screamed in terror, but instead he calmly turned to Belle.

Without words his eyes were filled with pleading. He didn't have gold or jewels or even strength to offer her to deny a bid on his son. There was no promise he could make. He had not silver or gold or even the cheapest treasure to his name. All he had was a father's unwavering love.

Yet little did he know of another love. A love that was priceless. A love that outbid all the gold and jewels in the world.

The love of Belle.

Looking into his molten brown eyes, in that moment Belle knew that all her plans had come to not. Her die was cast in a different direction and loved welled within her so high she could nearly feel her heart bound with new life in her.

The plans she had made would not come to pass. Not with him, her love.

"Let's get a few things straight right now." She turned her attention to the heartsick Milah. "You may love Killian with all your heart, but you made a terrible choice by leaving this man. He is kind and wonderful and brave and loves those close to him. He cherishes what he has while you are malcontent. He loves with all his heart, he feels with all his heart. And one day he might think me worthy to grace me with an ounce of his truest affections."

"You don't know how much I evenly you Milah. You had all his love, something I would very literally kill for. But that's gone now. All that remains is his love for his son and hear me true, I will not for all the gold, for all the riches in all the realms separate a good man from his child to the woman that abandoned them." She walked toward Milah and though they were near the same height she seemed to loom like a protective shadow. "You will not come after them. You will not pursue us. You will not attempt to kidnap either of them. For if you do you have my solemn oath that I will hunt you down, kill the man you love before your eyes as you beg for death in turn. Torture has never been my liking, but I will scour the world for the best books and the best tools on that foul craft all for your demise if you lay one hand on either of them. Are we understood, Mrs. Jones?"

Having been a pirate for so long, Milah had become used to laughing in the face of threats. She was the wife of Killian Jones, the rogue, the dashing, and the slyest pirate to ever sail. She laughed into the stark face of danger, she spat in the face of threat, but seeing Belle, her heart gave way to abhorrent terror. She quailed at the startling indigo eyes that meant every murderous word. "Yes," she swallowed her agony and nodded. "Yes."

Knowing they were routed, knowing he could do nothing to help his wife, Killian laid a tender hand on her shoulder and tugged her away. "Come on love. We don't need this." Head down he continued speaking for the sake of speaking. "I don't even know why we came. We weren't even planning to come this year but something…. Changed our minds. Just deserts perhaps…." Shaking his head at the dourness of the meeting, the pirate walked out with her softly crying wife before him.

Sighing as they left , Belle closed her eyes for a moment and drew in a deep breath. That had not been the cold, calculating anger of before. No, she dared that that in that moment that cold anger had been exorcised out of her. In the heartless rages place, was a blazing alabaster fury. Righteous fury.

Opening her eyes again, her azure depths found the spinner. Looking down humbly, he stumbled over himself to give thanks for her protective generosity. "Captain I can't... I don't have anything to give you for this, I don't know how to…. I'll pay you back for what you've done. I- I'll find something that could possibly compare… I'll pay you back somehow."

If only he could give her his soul for what he had done. If only he could show her just how grateful he was or just how much he loved her in that moment beneath the gibbous moon and above the onyx sea.

"You have no need to pay me any recompense, Rumpelstiltskin," she replied softly. Her hand drew up to feel his sun scarred cheek. His tears were still fresh upon the side of his face, making her heart twist.

Holding her other, delicate hand in his calloused grip, he hugged her fist close to his pounding chest. "You refused to sell my son, to separate us. For that I have no words, I have nothing to pay but myself. I will be forever your loyal servant and hope that I may show you everyday how thankful I am."

If she would allow he would give her his all. He would do anything for her. Her needs would only come after Bae's. Everyday he would strive to be… worthy of her.

"Don't speak to me of servitude, Rumpel," Belle demanded in a soft, watery laugh. His words touched her to the most sensitive nerve in her chest, flooding out the tender woman she had been so that her entire being soaked up the life giving waters of a soul restored. "I won't let you. I don't deserve such loyalty."

"But you do," he contested softly and closed the gap between them. Pressing his brow against hers he let his heart flow. "You have my loyalty, what little courage I have… and my love."

Love? Oh heaven above could such graces be? Heart quivering and rocking in her chest, though the organ was not there, Belle felt her soul surge into her throat. Hot tears pricked her cerulean eyes like dots of fire. "I… I am not worthy of either. Especially the latter." She closed her eyes to dam the tears. "But I will try. I swear I will. And I can only hope that you will see fit to look down with but a shred of kindness on this love I hold for you."

If he even repaid a hint of her love she would be whole.

"Your love." He wrapped his arms about her. "Belle you simply saying those words is more than I ever dreamed."

All he wanted was a modicum of her affections. That was all he hoped. That was all he expected. Now to be shown that she returned his love… oh what joy could leech away the poison of sorrow so quickly!

"And your reciprocation is more than I ever imagined," she replied in turn. Softly she laid her head on his chest and squeezed until she thought she might snap him in twain.

At last they were one, with their love, with their hearts. For Belle her journey had ended but not so with others.

~8~8~

Anchored at a surreptitious dock on the other side of the Paradise, the Queen Anne, the favored ship of Blackbeard bobbed in malevolent lassitude. Her sails were drawn and the ship looked quiet making any passing body believe the pirates aboard had eagerly as any clambered down to the dock and winded their way through the corridors to their chosen vices.

The simple fact was, only one soul stepped off the boat. Boots muffled by the soft lapping of waves to rock, a cloaked figure stepped down the gang plank. Walking at a slow, unsuspecting pace, the veiled hulk of a man made way to a small portcullis at the back side of the island.

Keeping his cloak tight as he entered, Gaston did his best to remain inconspicuous on his mission. His former crew was out there somewhere and he needed to know what they were up to for one last time.


	18. A Moments End

Far under the lights of the laughable ball, the pirates, too mean and too crash, to enjoy such leisure's made do with their more inhospitable vices. The night drew on to the cheers of toasts after fine tales, the quiet, easy passes of breath letting out faded gray smoke rings, and the gamboling of pirates to the music of drum and flute and tambourine.

Even further from such entertainments, the night outside the pillar remain placid and somber as the darkness that fell upon the world. Few people moved about on business upon the rough outlets where mistrals blew at odd times and the sea refused any pleasure or ease for them.

Only two found themselves willingly on the outside of the menacing structure of the Paradise and neither could tell if the quiet was the best or worst thing they had endured in their life.

Awkwardness and infuriation that he could scarcely comprehend or unravel doggedly pursued Baelfire with every vapid breath he took in the cold night. Bright clouds filled with uncertain rain clouded over his heart, ready to spill at the right moment. His emotions felt like a toy makers puzzle that he simply could not comprehend though the pieces lay their all for him to try his hand.

Beside him, just as anxious, tense, and silent sat Emma.

Perched out on an unprotected rocky ledge, the pair gazed out upon the strip of pale silver moonlight twinkling like a silver diaphanous scarf over the seas. Their faces were bold and bright in the pregnant full moon, leaving no darkness to adumbrate or cloister over the trepidation of their hearts that subsequently wove unto their faces.

When they had seen one another earlier that day both had meant to deal the other harsh snapping words but instead they found themselves bashful and coy and oddly mute. Words of anger were there, but they did not burn in their hearts.

The smell of delicious treats had filled the air around them like a friend breaking their awkward meeting and they had run like stray dogs off to explore and fill their bellies with treats foreign aboard the ships.

The day had waxed pleasantly with them slowly easing into talking and play even though they were nearly over the age of such games. Now with the silver disk moon as their chaperone they set at the ledge again bereft of words and heavy with feelings.

Kicking her legs vapidly over the ledge, Emma leaned back on her hands and banked her head slight to the left. Her eyes peered over the sable waters as though pondering the lane of pale light amidst the watery black.

"You know," Emma finally sighed, daring to break the silence first. "I didn't really, truly mean to push you off that day," she admitted thoughtfully.

Bae looked down at his claming hands, uncertain where to put them or what really to say in reply. "And I didn't mean what I said; honest I didn't. Papa says I'm going through a rebellious stage whatever that means."

"My parents said the same," Emma laughed softly, her voice carrying over the black waters like the light feet of nymphs.

A smile titled Balefire's lips as though her laugh had summoned up his grin. "You know Emma you're really nice. I guess I didn't have a lot of time to think about that the first time."

The girl really was fantastic. She could steal a coin purse off the most vigilant of pirates and though that was an ignoble skill, he had seen her give money to some of the filthy children that played on the pinnacle and old pirates that even their kind seemed to have forgotten. That had eased the quibble of guilt for theft in his heart and for Emma, seeing he did not begrudged her skills, she had taught him until he had become pretty good at filching purses from the more oblivious in one long day.

"You're not so bad either. For a landlubber," she mimicked the piratical slang. Shaking her flaxen mane, the young lady turned to look at Bae for the first time since they had found themselves at the dock with their spoils. "Well I think this has been quite enough time now," the pirate princess revealed cryptically.

Bae nodded and pulled a knee to his chest. "I know," he replied obliviously as though he even grasped a frayed clue what she meant. "We both ought to be getting back."

Their parents would probably start to worry if they weren't back by one.

"No… I mean yeah… I mean," half frustrated gust escaping her lips, the girl rolled her eyes. "I guess I have to do thing myself then." Leaning over she quickly pecked Bae's cheek with a kiss.

In Emma's youthful estimations they had spent quite enough time being awkward and trying not to show their feelings. They had been out all day and the time had come to show that all hadn't been for naught.

Stunned and frozen the cabin boy sat pertly as though he had been dealt a numbing blow. Red hot fire filled his cheeks but the pale glow of the moon clandestinely veiled the burn that rose to his face.

"There," Emma claimed gently as she leaned away. "Now that that's settled you can take me back to the ship. And on the way we can talk."

Blinking owlishly, the boy stared at her as though her words were in some different tongue. "T-talk…?" he stammered, feeling much like his timid father in that moment than he ever had before.

"About what ship we'll have one day, and the adventures, and maybe…," she paused and did a quick pondering. "Yes, I think three."

"Ships?" the stunned Bae asked obtusely.

Emma slapped him playfully on the arm. "No silly."

"Three what then?" he queried, completely confused by her womanly mathematics and still on the ropes by her sweet kiss.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with, lad," Gaston interposed with a cruel laugh, severing the gentle, sweet moment with his ominous presence.

As they turned to view the speaker, he strode from the shadows untouched by the gilded moons rays. Large and foreboding as ever the former boson appeared like a demon in a dream. Cowl cast down from his head, he smiled a merciless grin down at Baelfire.

Terror froze in Bae's heart as though the mortal pump had ceased to beat. The fire in his face fled to cold ashes. There could be no way Gaston was there. He had heard of the traitorous boson, which was all the pirates had talked about nearly for one week straight when they first had left the port.

Silver had killed him. There was no way….

"Did Balefire's father send you?" Emma sighed in cheated irritation, ignorant of the peril that now lurked so close.

Getting to his feet and turning to face the man, Bae never took his eyes off the traitor. "Emma… get up, go get your parents and Captain Belle." Daring a glance to her, his eyes spoke the imminent danger. "Run and scream and go as fast as you can."

"No, no," Gaston contested, his voice still easy as though he were only there to tease them. "You may can run lass and do what this stupid boy says, but he can't escape me and knows that very well. I hate to separate two courting younglings like yourselves so early but I will if I must. You do what he says lass and I kill him here and now and disappear where you'll never be able to find me for vengeance."

Fear encroached suddenly upon Emma' visage in a ghostly pale hue. Whatever had happened aboard the _Rose_, Gaston was clearly no longer a friend and after she had gotten to know Bae, she didn't want to see him dead but knew the pirates words to be true. Gaston was faster, stronger than both of them. There was even a good chance both of them wouldn't get away if he if played his cards right. They did not stand a chance alone without no one around to hear them.

Swallowing down her fright, she stared at him anxiously though she tried to hide her fear. "Alright I wont run or scream. What do you want?"

"Oh you did find yourself a good lass, Baelfire." Gaston's smiled suddenly turned sour. "Better than mine was to me," he spat before regaining his certainty and smug manner. "Now this is what happens. Lad you come with me and lead me down to the _Rose_. Lass you go find your parents. You tell them to tell Belle that I have her favored pet's son. You tell her not to raise one alarm. You tell her that the boy lives if she and her cripple cooperate. We'll meet at her ship. You do all that and the boy lives." He nudged his head to the portal of the stone. "Now go."

Casting one final, worried glance at Bae, the blonde tensely shrugged. What other choice did she have? Creeping away she finally fled up to the door and disappeared into the pillar again leaving Gaston with his captive.

~8~8~

"So that's the whole story then," Belle sighed gently as she leaned against Rumpelstiltskin. Her slender arm entwined seamlessly in his own, she laid her head on his shoulder as they watched the moon dance on the horizon of the black main.

In the hours that had lapsed after the meting of Milah, he had divulged his entire past to here there on the balcony. If she had love for him then he wanted no lies between them. He wanted his shame to be known. He would keep no secrets, carry no inner burden that she would not know. His heart would be an open tome to her to flip through the pages at her whim no matter how much pain that would procure.

Part of him feared she would be disgusted by his tale and turn from him, but compassion and understanding were the only things she held for him. She heard his disgrace and loved him still.

Nodding languidly, his lips dipped into a small frown. "That's everything," he affirmed simply, his tone a mere murmur of shame.

"You're struggled so much," Belle breathed tenderly, her heart rejoicing and aching for him all in the same instance. Yes, his life was hard, but how much harder was he because of that cruel hand of fate? To Belle he was akin to a well rooted sapling. He could be bent and bowed but he was not broken.

Turning fully from the ocean and instead to the woman, the spinner smiled humbly and wrapped her in his arms. Holding her close in the full face of the moon, he placed a kiss upon her lips. "But that's all over now. I have you and my son and a life."

Of course he didn't necessarily recognize what that life was exactly, but he was certain he would spend the rest of his days with the woman in his arms. Whatever else came, well, they would face that as soon as their trials rose to meet them.

Eyes of blue locked to his orbs of brown, the beauty felt her own compunction to speak the truth rise to her throat. She desired with every ounce of her being to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him of her life and the quest and….

"Belle!" Snow White's voice broke with panic into their little alcove of affection. Breathlessly rushing into the stone balcony, the privateer placed a hand on the entryway and keeled over to gobble down the salty sea air that burned her lungs before she could speak another word. "Finally! We- we've been looking for you both everywhere!"

Stepping away from Rumpel, Belle stared with alarm at her friend. "What's happened? How did you know where to find us?" she demanded concernedly.

What was amiss?

"You weren't on your ship… we searched everywhere." The privateer's chest heaved like the tossed waves in a storm. "Emma came to us… Bae… Your boson Gaston… he's captured him."

"Gaston?" Belle and Rumpel erupted in simultaneous disbelief.

Flickering her astute cerulean gaze over to Rumpel, Belle shook her head as though wandering out of her dream of love. "That's impossible. We threw him overboard. He should have sunk like a stone."

Even if he hadn't he shouldn't have been there so soon so fast. Unless….

"What has he done with Bae?" the spinner asked, his voice timid and frantic all at once. "What's he done with my boy!"

Gaston, he knew very well, was a man who harbored vengeance like a deep well in his heart; drawing constantly from the source like the water of life. If he wanted revenge on them both what better way than to kill Baelfire and make his father suffer the inordinate loss of his most precious treasure in his life?

"Emma said he was alright." Snow nodded in assurance to his panic and gulped down more air. She could more than understand the panic for his son. "He's being used as a hostage. Gaston wants you the both of you to come quietly to the _Rose_. Don't try to get to Regina to deal with him or Bae dies."

Fear cramped horrendously in the spinner's belly at the last word. His body flinched as though he had been lashed with a metal whip. Gaston was more than capable and would keep his promise. He would gladly fulfill his that duty if they did not comply to the very letter of his demands.

Nodding stoically, Belle pondered their next move. Of course they would have no choice but to go, but they couldn't let him have all the advantage. "He obviously wants to bargain if he didn't not kill Baelfire right out. We have something he wants." Focusing on Snow again she spoke decisively, though the cold calculator was gone leaving only the bright, Belle still filled with just as much cunning as the insipid captain. "Snow you need to find Long John Silver. He's probably in the kitchens. You find him and you tell him to collect the crew and gather at the darkest side of the docks closet to out ship. If we're careful we can do this right without a mutter."

"Belle we need to go alone," Rumpel protested frantically, his breath coming in little spurts of panic. "He has Bae! If we don't do what he says he will kill him!"

"And if we comply we might as well sign three death warrants," she parried stalwartly. "Push aside your panic a moment and think! Gaston is not this bright. He's not doing this of his own volition, believe you me. We need backup for this."

Snow broke in. "We'll be there for you Belle," she swore as loyally as any crewman.

"No," Belle disabused her immediately. "You've done enough already. I thank you for your friendship but one crew might already draw a few glances. Two crews together will raise everyone's alarm and this could blow up. Just go find Silver and explain the situation."

Nodding, her breath caught, Snow scrambled off again leaving the pair alone to examine the hazardous turn of events and the peril placed before them.

Grimace slashed miserably across her features, the beauty looked up to her love. The worry creased upon his sun worn face nearly broke her heart.

Sighing in assurance she laid a hand on his arm. "Don't worry Rumpel we will get him back to you safely. I won't let anything happen to him, I swear."

~8~8~

Fear clutched Rumpelstiltskin's heart with frigid, jagged claws and squeezed the racing mass of muscles painfully as they came in sight of the anchored _Rose_. The night was at a time where the moon had fallen but the sun had not risen, leaving the world dunked in pitch.

In the absolute darkness the ship looked mostly deserted, which it was, all save for one candle that guttered dimly in the captain's quarters.

Gaston.

Peering around the dark, abandoned dock anxiously, the spinner hugged his crutch close. "I don't see Silver or the others," he whispered, his low voice just barely fighting away the panic entrenched firmly in his chest.

"That's a good thing," Belle comforted, trying to keep his sprits up. "Don't worry, Silver is a smart man. When he gets here, if they aren't here already, he'll know when to jump in and help."

Calming his nerves with her certainty, the spinner followed close to Belle as they scaled the gangplank and landed on deck. The ship was barren with no signs of struggle, but a line of bright yellow luminance gleamed under her cabin door like a light house beacon that would not lead them to safety but to rocks.

Bolstering, herself, Belle marched fearlessly to her cabin and opened the door. Sitting at her high backed chair near he desk was Baelfire. His chin touched his chest and his straggly brown hair veiled his face. His body was half slumped over in unconsciousness like a rag doll long forgotten. Only the ropes that bound him around the chest kept him up partway.

Directly beyond him, a figure in a red coat stood facing the window and Belle knew him immediately, confirming her worst fears.

Blackbeard.

"Come inside Captain Belle," Blackbeard offered in a gentlemanly manner and turned to face her. His ugly smile glittered beneath his matted obsidian beard. "And please tell your crippled companion to come along."

Almost as though he had heard the ignoble summon, the spinner limped through the door as well. His eyes immediately clasped to Bae's limp form and he scrambled forward. "Bae!" the word shouted from his lips but was muted as the door slammed closed behind him.

Swiftly turning, Belle saw in horror their last hope suddenly dashed.

Standing behind the door was a bruised and battered Long John Silver with Gaston holding a sword at his girth. Hands roughly bound behind him, the cook wheezed in bloody agony.

Sniffing through a bloody, broken nose, the corpulent chef eyed her pitifully. "I'm sorry lass. I had jest gathered a few crew to help when I ran into this blaggard." He nudged his bulk a tad disdainfully at his captor. "He got the jump on us, cap'n. I'm so sorry."

"You act like that was an accident," Gaston snickered and maliciously jabbed the tip of the saber into the folds of fat until a spot of blood dampened the jovial cook's filthy apron. "I knew you would be up to something. You always are. But this time I was ready for you, eh Silver?" Smiling smugly as if the old pirate had acquiesced to the words, the cruel man looked on proudly. "I finally got one over on old Silver," brutishly laughed Gaston. "It was the easiest thing I ever did!" he boasted and preened.

Ignoring the disgusting brute she had nearly wed, Belle focused on the ever loyal Silver. "How many crewmen did you gather? Where are they?"

"That Jefferson fellow, the girl Ariel, and the Hood," Blackbeard supplied easily as though he had seen to their capture personally. "They were the only one's not pitch drunk. I applauded you Belle for having such upstanding crewmen."

Belle twirled around to the evil captain, her eyes aglow with fierce protectiveness and desperation. "Where is my crew?"

"In the Queen Anne's brig by now." The captain shrugged insouciantly. "We knocked them out, just like the lad. We did the deed gently with a sleeping potion on a cloth." His smile appeared again like a filthy ghost made manifest upon a moonless night. "Like the one Gaston will put over you both in a few moments."

Allayed slightly that the evil man might have been truthful, Belle glowered at him. "Why have you done this? The last I knew we had no quarrel with you or your other ships. Why do this to us?"

For all his cruelty and justified loathing, Blackbeard was not a petty man nor was he one to entertain himself with mindless revenge. Why he did things was mostly translucent to those that heard of his vile deeds.

Why now had he chose to assault them?

"Very simple, Captain Belle." He turned back to the window, clasped his hands behind his back, and stared out over the black waters. "Because you have at last gathered all the pieces of something we both dearly want."

Sharp, horrid realization plunged like a dagger into Belle's chest as the pieces fit to finished the terrible puzzle. The horror of the revelation strobed menacingly in her thoughts right before a cloth was put over her nose from behind and the world went into unsettling darkness.


	19. Wants of Revelation

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing, lovelies!  
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**~8~8~**

Darkness and fire. Two of the most common of mortal fears. Darkness and fire, the most horrendous combination of all, Belle thought as she lingered under the sleeping draught. Though her mind in someway new the sleep she lay under was not of normal means, she had no way of waking, and as she slept, she dreamed of darkness and fire.

_Blazing, biting fire twisted and curled and flickered ruthlessly at the corners of Belle's darting vision as she lived imprisoned in her dream world. Alone, without hope or chance, she ran leaving her to scramble precisely wherever the conflagration pleased. _

_Fire surrounded her like the hounds of war, biting at her heels and gnashing at her sides with flaming talons that sought to unmake her. The fire was her hunter but also the walls of a labyrinth that she found herself directly in the middle of. Trying to escape the conflagration, she stumbled through the maze of fire that as well was encompassed in darkness. _

_Blisters and burns welted up on her flesh in every instant that she dared pause even for a moment. The air was hot and hostile to her lungs and crawled down her throat like hot sand with every laborious breath. The ends of her coppery umber mane were charred and smoldering and the scent of burnt hair and burnt skin just barely reached her nostrils. _

_Forever she seemed to run in the same tormented tedium until, in breathless increments small flashes of memory flickered by as she ran for her life. Shocked, even with the flames dogged pursuit at all sides, she couldn't help but stand still for a moment. Her burning eyes grew wide as the pictures that were untouched by the flames played by. _

_In some flashes of her memory there was Rumpel, shy and timid on their first meeting, neither of them even minutely aware of what would arise from his capture. A heartbeat later the images of their love swirled about her in a cyclone of pain. She saw them with shy laughs and small looks that sought to unlock the mystery that began to bud in their long lonely hearts. She saw the moment of their lips meeting in tender reawakening and the flare of passions what swirled around her hotter than the fires. She saw his worry, his admiration, his love and the thoughts of what she had brought him for made those opened places of her new found heart burn as though alcohol had been drenched on the most grievous of wounds. _

_Tears brimmed in her cerulean eyes though the perilous fires about her evaporated them into reticence, leaving her not even able to weep for the knowledge of what she had done. The thoughts of her former machinations made her stand still despite the heat. She deserved such a tortuous demise. _

_A haggard, dry cry wrenched from her lips as the first fangs of the flames without hesitation reached her. Beads of cold sweat dotted her brow and rapidly rolled down her heated skin until turning into sinuous tendrils of steam. She could almost feel the blazes tongues of glutton on her skin, melting away the vestiges of her flesh and then, the fire consumed her. _

_Hungry, evil flames of malice curled over her limbs like mouths ripping at her skin. Chains of fire seemed to hold her down and eat her all at once. Voraciously the flames nibbled away and wormed into her skin like maggots, rending her flesh with large, teeth filled jaws._

_Fear froze the woman, perhaps the only defense against the terrible pain. She sought to close her eyes but even her eyelids had been chewed away leaving her to look on to her devourer. _

_A cry nearly sailed from her destroyed lips, but then the fire was vanished as soon as her mouth wrenched open. Only darkness, illuminated by some unknown light remained about her. She seemed locked in the deepest dungeon with no way to escape. _

_Slowly, painfully inching to her feet, Belle stood warily. Her legs wobbled tremulously though held her steady, denying the fact where the flames had sought to devour her. Breathless, Belle looked around the bright blackness. The room seemed as wide as the world, but enclosed so sturdily that there would never be a door to admit her out. _

_Slowly turning in a circle to judge her prison, her eyes found a full length mirror standing like a cloaked figure behind her. _

_Only a few paces away, the mirror was covered from top to bottom with a white sheet that emanated the light about her. No wind stirred the sheet, but the cloth seemed to billow of some magical accord. _

_Numbly, Belle's feet moved of their own volition to the large covered mirror. Her senses blared to run from the sheet and the mirror, but her feet, as though governed by some unseen tether, ferried her to the thing more terrifying than even the flames. _

_Unable to fight, the beauty watched in horror as her body came to standstill in front of the sheeted mirror. Vapidly, her head and hand arose and her fingers grabbed the edged of the fabric. _

"_No!" Belle screamed frantically, but the voice sounded dull and far away. _

_Still, her body did not heed her and with one quick pull, yanked the sheet away to fall in a pool of corpse white at her feet. As the cloth finally settled the different angle of the light reveled the sheet was not cloth, but skin. _

_Horror and bile filled the beauty as she saw what the fires had done to her. Her skin and flesh and muscle had been eaten away leaving only the sleek red of arteries, veins, organs, and the white of bone to her sight. The fire had devoured all on the out, making her seem as though her skin were nearly just invisible. _

_Her innards churned, her lungs rattled, and all seemed to work in their proper order. The only flaw to the body beneath the skin was a hollow section in her chest missing a physical heart. _

_Starring at herself, the fire of before seemed a mercy. Better the gluttonous flames had eaten her whole than to show her that horrible place bereft in her bosom. Lifting her hands up again, Belle did not try to stop her body. Hands curled into fists, with all her might, she slammed her knuckle bones into the mirror, shattering the panes in a hundred thousand pieces of jagged shards…._

"Belle!" Rumpelstiltskin's voice gratefully penetrated her nightmare, his tone making the glass in her head fade. "Belle!" he called her name again.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, the spinner shook her zealously as though the action could drag her from whatever terror assailed her. To watch her suffer so was nearly a nightmare to himself. To see her flail and cry and scream without way of waking had been a lance right to his heart.

Slowly as though his voice coaxed her from the fields of nightmare, her blue orbs fluttered. Sleepily, Belle opened her eyes to the world of the awakened once more. Her azure gaze rested on the spinner who hovered over her anxiously. His straggly, dirty brown hair hung like tatters above her. Dread and worry etched his face like words, telling his horror and fear and fright to her plight.

Taking in a deep, anxious breath, the beauty slowly weakly lifted herself to her elbows. "Rumpel… what…?"

"You started screaming in your sleep," he revealed worriedly as his eyes scanned her as though she had taken some other wound. "Well more screaming. I've been trying for an hour to wake you up. The draught that traitor gave you was inordinately strong."

The dose he had given her had nearly been half a bottle. He had done so on purpose, Rumpel figured perceptively, for he still wanted Belle to suffer for choosing a mere captive over himself.

Potion… traitors? The words nagged with a hint of remembrance into her fogged mind. For a moment all was drugged confusion and like a bolt of lightening to her senses she remembered.

Her gut twisted in a vice of disparity as the realization of their situation fell back into her sleep mugged purview. They had been captured by Blackbeard and her traitorous boson who where tying to….

Shaking her head sloppily, refusing to let the thought dominate her, Belle eyed the place they had been imprisoned. The room was not a brig but a well tended cabin. One bunk and a few other amenities filled the room but nothing that could be used to help them make good an escape. The door sat on the opposite side of the room in front of the bed, but she dared to guess they wouldn't find any escape there.

Her poniard was gone and all the little weapons she had held close by. Rumpelstiltskin's knobby crutch remained but that was of little use.

"I was just having a nightmare," she admitted casually, trying to dissuade his worry. "We have bigger problems to worry about."

Compared to the revelation she had about Blackbeard, her nightmare might as well have been a pleasant dream. She knew what he wanted now and why he had captured them. Her only hope was perhaps he didn't know everything she knew or more.

Abruptly the tinkering of a lock met their ears as they sat their ruminating over their current situation. A key clicked the tumblers and slowly the door opened revealing the large form of Gaston standing in the frame.

Golden slants of oblique sun that told the pair the time was bout midday streamed past him, nearly blotting out his face with shadow.

Taking a step inside, his curious face alit into wicked pleasure. "Good. You're finally awake. Blackbeard said the potion would have worn off about now." Brandishing his cutlass expertly, he waved to them importantly with the weapon. "Come with me and step lively. The captain wants you by the wheel."

"Is he finally going to reveal what he's up to?" Belle groused dispassionately, playing dumb as she stood. Her head spun slightly, reminding her of the flames that had taken her down in her horrid nightmare, but she glowered murderously at the traitor revealing nothing of the misery he had no doubt assailed upon her.

A bellow of laughter spattered from the boson's lips as though he could read her thoughts and see past her stalwart guise of her wrath. "Don't play stupid Belle, you're better than that. You know what he's up too."

"Maybe, but I can't understand why you betrayed me," she spat venomously.

Had they not wanted the same thing, Rumpel or no? Why toss his lot in with Blackbeard when he would gain the same thing if she called the spinner her love?

Gaston's cruel mouth quirked viciously into an angry smirk. "Not at first. I had no intention of betraying you, but you…. Your intentions and tastes were… limited." His lips twisted into a sneer as his dark eyes fell wrathfully on the crippled spinner. "And apparently went downhill as well. Now come along. Blackbeard will explain everything better than I."

Tilting his head down to avoid the wrath of Gaston, the spinner drifted protectively close to Belle. His hands clutched his crutch as he hobbled out of the cabin with her. Though he too wanted to learn more of what was transpiring, if he could protect Belle then he would.

The sky was a clear tile of blue and crisp in the fall day as they stepped out. A chill breeze whisked the scent of salt about and portended the early start of winter in a few weeks time.

Following their captor past evil smiles and the jeering crew, the three came up to the wheel where the notorious Blackbeard steered the Queen Anne. Cool breeze blowing, the nefarious Blackbeard smiled into the wind. The lice ridden ends of his beard fluttered like vines in a dark jungle as he enjoyed the feeling of simply sailing out after a victory one by his clever plotting.

"Good afternoon to the both of you," he greeted mockingly and turned to look at them. Letting go of the wheel and stepping away, another crewman took over his course without a word. His boots thumped softly over the deck as he neared them. Hands behind his back he sized them up in a victorious manner. "I trust you both slept well in your accommodations?"

Belle gathered herself in a stately figure to combat the mockingly respectful Blackbeard. "As well as could be expected, Captain Blackbeard. However, I'd be a good deal better if I knew the whereabouts of my crew."

Though she desperately wanted to root out his plan, her crew, or those that had been captured were more important. They had stuck with her though thick and thin and because of her they were at the mercy of the cruelest man upon the seas.

"They're in the brig, boy and all," he revealed freely to them both with a wave of his hand. His bearded lips twitched tightly into a smile. "You're a dedicated captain I give you that."

Satisfied of their safety, Belle nodded curtly to the captain. "Since that's settled I hope now you can tell me what this is all about."

Perhaps if he divulged what he knew then she could contrast that with her knowledge and contrive an escape through the sheer luck of ignorance.

"You know already Captain Belle what 'this is all about'," he mocked impertinently. "The dagger is what I seek." Soft laughter escaped his filthy black beard. "You should have known you weren't going to be the only one. Sometimes I think if we had banded together we could have found the weapon long ago." He waved a hand to silence her before she could retort. "I know you wouldn't have though. Despite your lack of a heart, or maybe because of that lack, you wouldn't have joined up with me. We're on two different sides of the spectrum. Gaston understands but you don't. This dagger is all powerful and you just… well knowing what I know about you Captain Belle you would have made sure everyone got their wish and just... left the weapon there."

"That's what this is about?" Belle huffed mirthlessly as though astounded by their stupidity. "You just want the dagger to be all yours, is that why you've done this, because you don't wish to share?"

Blackbeard chuckled, his wit admiring hers. "A clever divergence in your accusation, but you do not deny my words."

He had a point, Belle hated to admit inwardly, but he did. He was a clever scoundrel no matter how foul. To trick the notorious criminal would be no mean feat. He could not be diverted and lured away like so many. No, he would keep to a course, perhaps better than she.

"I admit that I would have left the blade where we discovered if ever I found the thing." Her tone turned deadly serious to frighten him of the perilous quest. "If you had an inkling of knowledge of what I discovered about the dagger you would know that the blade is too dangerous to just be on someone's hip or locked in a chest. The kris was stashed away for a reason and I would like to keep that reason safe."

The pirate captain heaved his shoulders in a careless shrug. "And that's where we differ, Captain Belle. This blade can do so much more than grant a few silly wishes to those too stupid to hold on to what they had. You want one, maybe two, wishes a piece and leave the blade there? Why? With all that magic the very world lays at your fingertips. You know as well as I the text that still shadow an inkling of the dagger's existence say the blade is all powerful."

Belle's nonexistent heart fell into the pit of her stomach at the wise retort. He freely revealed he knew much about the dagger. With her in his grasp he had no fear to keep locked his secrets.

"Then if you know the text you should also know the last of the passage was destroyed," Belle retorted succinctly, more than a match for the brilliant Blackbeard. "We don't know what the rest of the passage says. All you see is 'all powerful'. You never took a moment to think what the rest might have said, what cost, what danger? You would perchance doom all the realms for want of all power?"

Hearty, devious laugher bellowed like powerful waves from the throat of Blackbeard. His head snapped back as he held his sides. He laughed as though she was the most entertaining jester in all the realms.

After a moment of sobriety, he spoke through the last trailing chuckles of riotous mirth. "Captain Belle, that point is moot. If I have the blade, all the realms will indeed be doomed. I won't be a mere pirate any longer. I will be the master of this world which is the exact reason I never came to you to join forces. This is the exact reason I clandestinely planned and studied always a few steps behind you; learning what you know and dealing in treachery with your boson. I know everything you know Belle and I know you have the last piece of the puzzle, which is why I finally decided to play my hand."

As the last word tumbled maliciously from his lips, his eyes flickered to Rumpelstiltskin.

Dread clamped icy shackles around Rumpel's heart at the cunning look though he knew not why the attention rested on him. The foul man eyed him as though he was to be some use in the words that they dealt.

Immediately, Belle stepped in-between. Fear and pleading glimmered in her intense cobalt eyes; making her wish for one moment she was the old, heartless Belle again. Maybe if she had been the cold woman once more, she could have bluffed the devious pirate.

"You leave him out of this!" she warned viciously, a wolf upon the waters, though her words cracked. "No one knows precisely what that text actually means. He's not needed."

Wrenching his gaze from the captor, Rumpel stared at the woman he loved. "What are you talking about?" What did she mean by "needed"?

Of course he had known of the dagger from Silver, but their implications concerning him were all too new. Why did she become so defensive, and why did Blackbeard look so eager?

The dastardly Teach feigned shock at the cruel discovery of the spinner's ignorance. Placing a hand to his chest his eyes widened and his mouth hung open in blatant mocking. "Oh she didn't tell her new lover?" His thin lips pulled into a devious smirk, hidden behind his knotted beard. "That's alright I suppose. She didn't tell her old one either."

"Blackbeard…," she interposed, by he spoke over her, enjoying the new point of pain he could induce.

"You see there is a bit of a mystery where the dagger is involved," Blackbeard explained simply as though he were a peaceful sage speaking to two foolish students. "The dagger requires something called a 'desperate soul' a person so downtrodden and eager to give up everything that they will fling themselves blindly into any happenstance. The scattered tales and the few text that still survive on the matter of the legendary dagger say that a desperate soul must be given as a sacrifice for the ultimate power. As you Belle and I myself figured things, in order to activate the magic, the power requires the death of a desperate soul. When Gaston told me she had taken a captive I knew immediately she had found the one."

For Rumpelstiltskin, the words slashed through his chest like cruel, serrated knives. The chill air brushed against him but he fell the nipping teeth not. His heart felt like a sundered stone as the last of the puzzle was revealed. Finally he understood, what her "mercy" in taking him along with his boy was. She had seen in him the will to do anything to be with his son - the ultimate desperation.

"You…" He could scarcely grab the words to speak past his shock. "You were going to kill me?"

Slowly, shamefully, turning to him, Belle looked up into his confused umber eyes. Her bottom lip quivered with emotion that surged through her in a volcanic eruption of utmost agony. "I did," she admitted softly, unwilling to lie to him any longer. "I was cold and angry and only wanted my heart, and then… I saw you and I got you know you, and I fell in love with you. I debated with myself long and hard after I realized I loved you could I go through with such a grim task. The answer was no. You become became my love Rumpel. I changed my mind."

The hot sting of weeping pricked Belle's azure orbs as the last vestiges of her cold wall began to shatter. "I'm so sorry, Rumpel. If I had known what I was going to feel for you…. If I had just known. You made me remember what it felt like to have a heart. You gave me my very being back."

Staring down at her, Rumpel saw what was oh so similar in himself, if not in the greatest degree - desperation. She had been desperate and hungry for her heart. She had searched so long and assiduously. She had planned so many long years and then….

She had been willing to give up her dream for him.

He could have been angry and rightfully so, but the thought that she would have abandoned her quest for him sapped the lethal fury from his heart, like poison drawn from a sudden wound. She had meant evil, but he could see that truth in those placid pools of her eyes that now that she felt renewed she would have not gone through with the deed.

"Belle," he spoke her name tenderly. No anger reared in him at the revelation. Not even fear passed through his heart knowing that Blackbeard had no such compunction to spare him.

She shook her head, her indigo eyes falling from his brown. "Don't say it like that," she sobbed miserably. "Don't say my name like you forgive me for what I was going to do to you."

She had all but sentenced him to die. She had been ready those long months ago to deprive a boy of his father. She didn't deserve his tenderness. He was sentenced to death by her actions. He needed to hate her. Perhaps his hate would soothe the pain that was fast approaching.

"I do forgive you," he replied gently. "I understand. I know."

Though his heart felt twisted, he felt pity for her. She had just regained her full emotion, her full heart only to feel her unguarded soul fraught with immeasurable pain.

"Brings a tear to my eye," Blackbeard mocked cruelly and wiped an invisible, crocodile tear from his swarthy cheek.

Twisting to face him, Belle glowered white fire from the tears welled in her fierce eyes. "I'll take his place. You don't need to kill him."

For his life, for him to be happy with his son, she would gladly give her life in return. She would die one thousand deaths for him to live with his son, content and happy, to give back all she had taken away.

"If that were possible I'd let you do that. I'm a reasonable man so long as I get what I want, but that's not in the question." He stubbornly shook his lice ridden head. "You see your reasons for the dagger were selfish. Your desperation is tainted. His is pure as well you knew, because if he doesn't make a willing sacrifice…."

"My son," Rumpel concluded lowly as though the last piece fit into place. "You'll kill my son."

A malicious smile wove upon Blackbeard's scraggly feature. "You're smarter than I took you for," he congratulated in his own menacing way. Taking a deep breath he spoke again with almost a reverence.

"_A desperate soul like the one of yore_

_Is the soul whom this dagger is for_

_Of selfishness they must be bereft_

_For others sake this blade they heft_

_To do the deed that must be done,_

_The sacrifice must be freely won. _

_But in order for that vast power to arise_

_The sacrifice must take on its own demise."_

"You see Captain Belle, you wanted that dagger for yourself. So do I; so does everyone here. All except one…. He doesn't want power or riches, not as much as he wants one thing. He only wants his son to be safe. For that he would give everything." Blackbeard explained after his recitation of the text.

Belle shook her head stubbornly, clambering for any way to dissuade the captain. "That's not true anymore. He has given me back what I thought I needed my heart for. Now that I know I do not need what I have too long been searching for, I would gladly die for him and his son to be safe."

He had given her what she thought forever lost. She had no desire for the physical heart with him beside her. Her heart, as far as she was concerned lived in him.

"I'm sorry, Captain Belle, but he's the only one I know for certain who has no ulterior motive. I can't take that chance," he paused suddenly, ruminating for a moment. "But, you see, you can prove more useful than you know. He no doubt loves you with the same fire you show for his pitiful existent. For his life, both you and his son can walk free if he so chooses to do the task."

"No!" Belle snapped frantically, her voice rising almost to a screech.

The firm hand of Gaston held her to the spot, preventing her from racing to the nefarious captain and trying to tear him limb from limb for all their sakes.

Smiling at her futile fury, the captain turned from her as though he had forgotten them and fished busily into a pocket. "Don't try to take things so hard, Captain Belle," he advised insouciantly and produced a strange, glowing bean in his hand.

Inspecting the bean, he toyed with the green source of magic for a moment before he tossed the bean into the waters. A small splash and minute ripple met the sinking of the bean, almost not worth the attention. For a moment the waters were as they had always been before a ray of green sliced up from the waves. At once the greenish gray waters began to churn.

The choppy waves frothed, sending snow white foam from breakers into the air. The waters began to move unnaturally as though swirling around the bean until a large vortex formed.

Laughing, manically, the dreaded Blackbeard, grabbed hold of the wheel once more. Bracing his feet, he steered with all his strength to his left, turning the ship suddenly into the magical whirlpool.

Spray wetted his face like happy tears as he turned back to look at the horror stricken couple. "Worry not captain, the whole dirty business will be over before you know it!" he screamed into the roar of the waters before the ship disappeared into the vortex right to take them to the place that had too long been sought.


	20. Found and Lost

Placid as a gilded mirror lay the sea of the farthest southern reaches. The sun, was a vermillion blood orange and lorded stoically above in the cloud bereft blue firmament giving the tranquil waters the light demanded of their beauty. Bright blue water as pure as sapphires twinkled indigo in the abysmally repressive heat of the evening. There, in the last vestiges of the known sailed waters, the heat never faded.

While autumn beat back the summer and old man winter blew cold upon the heels of the restive months, only heat held sway over the far southern climes. The waters were always blue, the months always warm, and the days seemed a reflection of paradise brought into the mortal realms.

For long moments nothing stirred in the tranquil vista of the unstirred sea until a fume of water like that from a passing whale lifted to the sky. A thousand crystal blue droplets glimmered into the air before falling not back down, not unto the sea, but unto a ships deck.

Coarse laughter still ringing from his throat, his voice hoarse from his insane jubilation, the captain of the Queen Anne beamed victoriously into the fading light of the day. His tangled, filthy beard steadily dripped brackish water on his boots and his entire body was drenched from the wild ride of going into the sea then being spat back out like an repugnant giblet of rotting flesh.

The journey had been a terrible trip through rifts of magic and only the one thought in his mind, but the risk had saved them months of sailing to the southern climes and actually finding their destination.

Strewn about the deck, the crew of the Queen Anne were in a less than celebratory mood. A greenish pall tattooed sun tanned skin of many of the shocked pirates as though they were fresh crewman on ship. Groans of agony tumbled miserably from their mouths and more than a few had wretched where they had fallen to their trembling knees.

The sudden portal no one had expected, but then, that was what made Blackbeard such a dangerous adversary. He knew how to perform the unexpected at any given moment and all who were not of use to him had cause to fear.

Piloting the Queen Anne with one hand gripped tightly about a spoke of the wheel, he barked out defiantly mocking to the crew. "What's this? I thought I had a crew made of sterner stuff! A little magic and you all go spewing your guts on deck like you had bad grub! Hurts me to my heart!"

"Sterner stuff? You warned no one! Were you trying to kill us, Blackbeard!" Gaston roared out angrily, his voice laden implicitly with terror.

A deathly pallor claimed his stoic face, making him seem a true ghost left aboard a forgotten ship. His muscles were taunt beneath his flesh, telling he had braced himself upon the anchor of fear. Magic was a thing Gaston had little love for. He knew the cold fright of power he did not understand and knew the clutches of terror with such magic near.

For all his indomitable strength, his body shook as though with palsy from the terrifying journey of magic and mayhem. Seeing the whirlpools seething, vast bowl devouring them had been enough to make his gorge rise. Only his stomach which seemed to fly into his throat as they were swallowed by the watery vortex had saved him from expelling whatever food he held in his belly.

Lazily, the pirate captain governed his wheel as though the harsh words were no matter to his indefatigable will. His scarred fingers rapped gently over the wood, giving only a hint of the ire inside but no more. He cast a dangerous sidelong glance to the traitorous boson, but met his words with a friendly smile. "Not with my good self on board, Gaston," he countered jovially, his will firmly intent to enjoy his success. "That bean was magic that will take a man anywhere he dares to tread…." He nudged his head to the mass of land before them. "Even the island that houses the dagger…."

The Isle of the Dagger as some legends knew the place was an uncharted island lost in the midst of the southernmost sea. Only the bravest dared to sail the hot reaches of the blue waters and none to knowledge had ever dared sail beyond the ever blue seas of the eternally hot region.

Some claimed that beyond the paradise, the last scraps of Hades laid claim to the waters, but those rumor stayed firmly planted as such. Because of the rarity of a ship in the blue waters people could only speculate, but given some of the wonders of the islands that dotted the azure main, their tales mayhap could have been sooth.

Rising out like a three pointed spike in the middle of the blue waters, an island, _the _island they all had long sought was indeed a sight to behold. The entirety of the landmass was no more than fifteen miles wide. Tawny grains of sand, as rich and vibrant as gold, surrounded the first layer of land like a delicately crafted necklace.

Thick, dark jungle arose upon the middle part of the isle, hiding any threat from view until too late. Tall foreign trees with flat bladed leaves spread their canopies far over the jungle beds and held clusters of unknown crimson fruit at their heights. Beings that could have been small monkeys leapt from tree to tree or disappeared down into the dark abyss of the impregnable jungle.

Though the island was impressive in size and beauty, the center of the island was astonishing above all to behold. High above the tangled, impenetrable jungle, far above the azure waters, three jagged peaks of crowded mountains stood like guardians over the isle.

A magical snow lingered on the lethal crown of the mountains fangs to warn all who approached that the uncharted islands was no simple deserted mass of land. Oh no, the snow upon the peaks let any who dared brave the waters so far know without doubt that the islands was enchanted by some unseen force.

A superstitious crew would have sited the isle as a bad omen and turned around immediately. Smaller fetishes had marked vast mutinies with crews before and the sight of such a spectacle of snow into the vast heat would have made more than a few hearty sailors lament.

Keeping a steady course to the island that housed such a powerful secret, Blackbeard smiled smugly as though he smirked in oncoming victory to the island. His eyes remained firmly stapled to the rough, glittering teeth of the snow capped mountain, his mind promising them he would soon meet their cold tops in little time. "There she is, Captain Belle. The Isle of the Dagger."

Cornflower blue eyes clasped to the island, an indiscernible awe fell upon the beauty as she stared at the enchanted island. Emotion clogged her throat, choking her of words that lay pool in her. Her chest filled with flares of wonder, though painfully so. She had long lived for the moment to see the famed glistening peaks, but each cut like a freshly made dagger deep into her bereft chest.

Long had she searched for the island that sat before her and now she looked upon the magic mounts with her own eyes, oh but at what cost! A sob nearly pounced from her lips. Her love would be lost to her unless some miracle would claim them.

The isle, she thought once her hearts ultimate salvation, would be his grave from his own inflicted wound and she was helpless to stop his demise.

Slowly closing her eyes from the majestic sight, the beauty turned away from the island carved before them. When she opened them again, her eyes fell to the equally awestruck Blackbeard.

His awe, however, stemmed from his goal being so close. A goal she had to try with all means to stop. "Please," Belle sputtered pitifully without hesitation. Clasping her hands before her chest, her bottom lip quivering emotionally, "Please don't do this to us. Don't do this to him."

Lazily steering towards the awe inspiring isle, the captain smirked once more. He couldn't help but lash another jab at her immutable misery, "I suppose your cripple there would have said the same thing if you hadn't gone soft, Captain," he taunted cruelly, though the words were all too true. "The very fact is captain, you'd be in my same boots if you hadn't decided you love the man."

The old Belle would have never heeded the spinner's words had she not succumbed to change. She would have remained cold and implacable as the captain whom she pleaded with for her loves life.

Pain like a punch to her very soul struck Belle in the dead center of her restored being. The cruel words were angry fangs that ripped and sundered her heart to tatters and left them at the pit of her stomach.

He was right, she knew miserably, oh so right.

Chuckling, pleased at himself, the notorious captain felt his cruelty replete for the moment. Maneuvering closer to the isle, he thought about their next step and began to dole out orders. Of course they still had plans to achieve before and after they got to the island. They were going on uncharted ground with prisoners.

Ruminating thoughtfully, the devious man began to call out orders. "To work with all you miserable dogs!" he barked, once more the cruel master of the Queen Anne. "To work getting this ship ready for anchor and going ashore. I leave no man or woman aboard tonight. Prisoner and pirate go to shore this night. Gaston you gather our guests here and make certain they're all bound up for our land venture."

"Captain," Gaston acknowledged in a beastly grunt and grabbed the two prisoners by their shoulders to escort them to the brig. There he would claim their other prisoners to make ready for shore.

Holding up a hand, the captain forestalled the massive traitor with a sharp motion. "Just our captain Belle here." His mouth upturned into a cold grin. "We don't need to bind our cripple here do we? He knows what's at stake." Though the spoke to Gaston the last words were aimed at the spinner.

Death would be rained down upon those he loved if he fell out of line. He was no longer prisoner of a thoughtful captain any longer but one who would eschew every moral and abuse every angle for his gain.

Visibly swallowing, Rumpel held his crutch in an abhorrently wary vice as though the thick crutch could shield him. Fear flowed through him like liquid ice tumbling through his veins. If he did not cooperate all he loved would perish to the pirates hands. With the woman he loved and his son captured he had no choice but to stay near with or without chains.

"I know very well," the spinner acknowledged timidly with a small bob of the head. He had long forsaken such timidity with Belle, but Blackbeard was a different matter all together.

A wicked smile bloomed upon the captains swarthy visage, his caution pleased with the spinners quick acquiescence. "Good good. You stay here, I need a few words with you," he explained then nudged his head forward. "Continue Gaston."

Incredulity flashed through Gaston's bright black orbs at the strange command, but he gave no voice to his hate or any excuse to dissuade the captain. Nodding sternly once again, he lugged the mute, heart broken Belle stiffly to the brig to collect the other prisoners. Whatever the Capitan wished of the cripple was his own reasoning, he assured himself before disappearing.

Rumpel's warm molasses eyes were liquid umber pools in the last vestiges of sun as he watched them move upon the deck. His heart strangled inside of him as he watched her walk away under the duress of Gaston. Watching her walk away, knowing one more time to see her and feel her was gone stabbed irreparable gashes upon his frail heart.

How many more moments would he live to see Belle and his boy, he wondered painfully. Would they let him hug his boy and tell him all that a father should before he died willing to save him? Could he possible express all his love for Belle in such time that his end allotted? Would he be given a chance to tell them he loved them with all his heart one more time before he accosted the weapon and selflessly plunged the dagger into himself?

Ignorant or heartless of the thoughts that hounded the spinner, the nefarious Blackbeard casually watched his crew prepared to make anchor and take the long boats out to the island.

Finally, with a firm sigh that could have been a huff of relaxation, he seemed to regard the spinner solely. "I won't lie, I'd hate to be in your skin right about now, cripple. I always knew love was a disastrous thing and look where that loves gotten you? What good has your affections done you?"

He was going to end himself all for the lives of two people. In his shoes, Blackbeard noted proudly, he would have sold the entire crew to death so save his own hide Self preservation was the key to all. Self preservation gave a body cunning and drive and prowess.

"Every bit of good as they could," Rumpel responded minutely, his voice a humble whisper of fear and defiance all at once. "For a while, even a small while I've known the greatest love a man could know. I've known the fatherly love of a son and watched him grow and the intimate, true love, of a woman who I would gladly give up my heart for." Daring the last scraps of his courage, his voice hardened like the glimmer of steel in his eyes. "Can you say the same?"

Silence reigned treacherously about them for a moment as the question remained heavy in the air. Eyes stapled forward, Blackbeard gave no hint that words had bothered him so. Indeed he seemed as though a wise-man set to ponder and new angle yet unseen.

At length, a small grunted heaved from his lips as though in admiration though his face remained and impenetrable mien. "Belle must have taught you very well for the time you were on her ship. If I didn't need you I would have killed you for that right where you stand."

The words shouldn't have struck such a cord in the heartless man, but they had. Anger that he could not explain, perhaps the anger of knowing there was no way to refute the spinner's words, swelled in him like an incoming tide.

His muscles tensed to leap into a fracas and deal the spinner a few sharp blows for his brave tongue. His fingers twitched for violence upon the wheels spoke as though the grain were the neck of the cripple. For a brief moment he would have given all his ships, simply to turn around and ring the cripple's scrawny neck for the words that wormed under his sun baked skin so.

But, he acknowledged, like a cooling balm upon blistered skin, there were other ways to pay recompense.

A cruel smile weaseled upon his bearded lips as the "other way" appeared miserably from the brig.

Swaggering victoriously the traitorous boson walked before a line of prisoners with a link of iron clasped tightly in his grip. The link threaded a way through the ranks of the prisoners leaving them all at the mercy of their jailor.

Thick, black iron collars fitted tightly around the necks of Jefferson, Robin, Silver, Ariel, Baelfire and Belle. The prisoners were given free movement of their arms and legs for the journey, but by the collars they were kept in order so none could make an escape or else lead a disastrous journey into the wilds.

Despite being bound none looked any worse for wear, though intense worry all lined their faces. Being a prisoner was not a good thing to be in any situation, but the fact rang true even more in the midst of pirates. Creativity bloomed in the dastardly buds of cruelty for corsairs and marauders. Peril encompassed their life each moment they were under the chains of the pirates.

More than knowledgeable about that fact, the captain waved heartily to the boson to catch his attention. "Listen to this, Gaston," Blackbeard barked a falsified laugh. "While you were gone, this cripple here thinks he can say whatever he pleases to me, knowing he won't be slain by my hands. Can you believe the gall?"

"That's a coward for you," Gaston met mockingly in return, his sense immediately attuning to the sly tone in the pirates timbre. Though he wasn't a smart man by any means he could ascertain what the words portended. Cruelty spoke a language Gaston knew fluently.

Tugging viciously at the chain that held the prisoners, he grinned cruelly as they lurched forward and nearly toppled at his feet. "Should I make an example of one of them in his stead?"

Nodding neatly, the pirate captain gave assent. "Aye that you should. Take your pick Gaston to see who should suffer for our untouchable here."

Maliciously, Gaston turned eagerly on the prisoners that were bound behind him. His eyes skirted them all as though apprising them for how much cruelty he could emit to harm the cripple. He was a near savant in the ways of ruthlessness and he only wanted the best to eek out every bit of heartache he could from the cripple.

The few crewmen, he knew perceptively, who had been captured, didn't matter for they held no special alcove in his heart, or not as much. No, the choice resided between two. The boy and his spurned lover.

Striding easily along the line of prisoners as though he were still trying to decide, the brute suddenly stopped in the face of the young Baelfire. Leaning forward a bit, he stared curiously into the boys depths.

Rebellion and fearlessness twinkled in his dark brown eyes under the growing crepuscular dimness. If he was afraid of the choice or the traitorous boson then he let nothing show of his features. Head held high, he met the gaze without a shred of fear in his heart.

"This one seems like a strong lad, captain," wickedly proclaimed the boson. "He looks like he could take a few punches."

"No!" desperation sailed from Rumpel's lips in a plea. Clutching his crutch, he began to hobble his way down, only for the firm hands of Blackbeard to hold him back.

Jerking him back to the wheel, the pirate captain held him fast. One arm wrapped about the thin body, he grasped the spinner's chin with one hand and made him look on to the torment about to be exercised.

Chuckling cruelly, the captain sneered malevolently into the spinner's ear. "Regretting those words now aren't you?" he mocked and tightened his vice on the spindly cripple until his nails dug into his flesh. "Now you'll have to watch."

"Aye." Gaston nodded, murder in his dark eyes. "He'll have to watch me beat his boy to a bloody worthless lump upon the deck!"

"You leave Baelfire out of this," Belle snapped to her former beau. Her heart tore in twain for Rumpel's calamity. If he had no choice but to watch, then she had to help somehow. "If you're going to harm anyone why not me? I'm the one who chose a cripple over you."

Reminded of the fact, the boson stiffened. His body seemed to jerk to a stop as though he mind whispered back the old fury and begrudging that long festered in him. Tightly working his jaw as though chewing upon the memories, he slowly turned his attention to her.

Relief and tension both filled the beauty as she saw the boson stop in his quest for pain. His sleek muscles tensed at the vainglorious reminder. He was no Blackbeard, she knew, he could be lured away with the right taunts.

Bolstered, she took on a mocking air of a venomous lover. "Do you ever ask yourself why I chose him over you?" she coaxed cleverly, drawing his attention from Bae to her. "Maybe because he does some things far better than you ever could. Maybe because he was just… better."

Tight blue cords bulged from Gaston's thick neck as every word hit him like a blow. She could have rained down blows upon him and the only difference would have been the illicit bruises upon the outside of his flesh. He was a prideful man with more vanity than brains. She had insulted him to his very masculinity.

Turning to her, he seemed to want to strangle here there and then. He wanted to make her choke back the words. He wanted to hear her say aloud who was the better lover, who had been the more satisfactory. He wanted all too know he was better than a cripple twice his age.

Instead, a horrendous smile overcame him. "We'll see about that," he promised mercilessly, his voice tinged with a meaning of lewd heralding of some vile act. "After I deal with the boy."

Tears gathered in Rumpel's eyes as he heard the poisonous words that spoke for themselves. He knew what Gaston had in mind for Belle, and he could do nothing to stop the cruel acts which the boson perceived for her. He would have his last revenge. He would rape her just to quell his pride.

Attention back to the fearless Bae, the boson balled his hand into a fist. His eyes stared loathsomely into the lad as though to judge where his terror lay and how to gather his fear to use.

"Tell me," he hissed deviously. "How bad do you think this is going to hur-"

"Enough of this!" Long John Silvers voice rang out against the incoming pain to Baelfire like the first rays of some late dawn. Fire bit behind his words as though his silence had reached a cap upon his temper. He had watched, fuming but silent at the mistreatment of those who had become his friends. Too long had he gone silent at the spectacle. Could he stand by, pirate or not and let a boy be beaten and the captain he had long stood beside, someone he thought of like a daughter be punished to rape? No!

Eyes blazing, he stared daggers at the boson. "I'm not goin' to stand by and let ye maim me messmate's lad or do any harm to the cap'n!"

Though he knew things would go poorly for him, he could not stand silently and watch! And so driven by his sacrifice, he moved into action. The taunt chains jangled as the bound Silver rushed the boson. His bulk crashed into the brute with all the strength of fury and wonton bravery he could gather in his thick, aged form.

Chains rattled and jangled luridly as the cook moved into action. The chained prisoners all surged after Silver with all his unstoppable momentum. They had no choice in going where the enraged behemoth stomped to battle.

Grabbing the surprised, stunned, Gaston by his shirt, the maddened cook hauled the brute upwards so that his feet dangled inches off the ground. His face twisted into an ugly sneer at the frozen brute. "Ye were never deserving of her. I knew that the first time I clasped eyes on ye. She didn't know, until the end but I saw the vileness in ye all along. Blessed was the day someone worthy of her actually came along. Ye're nothin' but a coward and it's been times since someone took a good stand against ye."

Landing a punch dead in the boson's face, he laid upon another and another. His large arm hauled back for a forth strike, but the sharp sting of blades met his wrist and large, hairy arms.

In his fury, the crew had not been idle. Blades came all too readily to hand and they surrounded the cook with the intent to kill with one order from their fear inducing captain. The gleam of blades surrounded the cook like flashes of silver light. The tips danced close to his neck and heaving chest and arm as though daring him to try his hand at pain again.

Breath heaving from his lungs, the cook stared murderously at Gaston. His face was a bloody fracas of bruises quickly growing to dark blue and light black. His nose lay at an unnatural angle and oozed gummy blood. A tooth was missing from his lower set and one of his eyes was already swelling shut from the barbaric assault.

Satisfied he had taken his vengeance on the brute, the cook dropped him down. Keeping his hands raise, he spat upon the boson who rocked on his feet. "Ye ever try to touch them again' and I'll-"

He got no further as Gaston brandished his saber and thrust the cold steel into the cooks gut.

Shock rocked the aged cook into rare silence as the blade slipped through him. The words stammered to a strange halt as the blade entered fully into him and came out the other way. A small cough which could have been a gasp of astonishment tumbled form his lips but no more.

A wicked smile smeared Gaston's abused features as he stared hatefully into the eyes of the wounded boson. "I should have given my choice more thought. The boy's pain or Belle's agony would have only distraught one." He twisted the blade in the cooks gut. "With your death, I get to hurt everyone all at once."

Slowly almost as if he did not hear the words, the pirate cook turned his head down and viewed the lethal blow for himself. His scarlet ichors dampened his filthy chef's apron and ran down the fibers like tears of warm crimson intent to stain his best wear. Hands shaking like leaves in a gale, he touched the blade as though to see if the steel was real.

Oh how real the metal was….

Somewhere near, though the voices seemed far away, he heard familiar but just the same, foreign, people calling his name. They sounded desperate and sad and panicked but he could find no feeling to care. For a moment satisfaction warmed him like the blood staining his skin. If he had to face death he had done so protecting those who called him friend.

For a moment confusion filled his features, giving nothing of the satisfaction of defense he felt away, before the pale of darkness took over and he slumped down to the deck dead.

And so ended Long John Silver.

~8~8~

Silver was dead, Rumpel thought numbly as he was unceremoniously tossed from the long boat to the island. Water still warmed by the sun splashed in his tear stained face and came up to his waist, damping his ragged cloths, but the waters could have been frigid for all his numb body cared. He had seen someone he dared call a friend cowardly murdered before him.

Shock instilled him from that moment even as he painfully sloughed through the waters and hobbled to shore where the first set of pirates were waiting.

Behind him the line of prisoners that had been in the boat with him jangled miserably as they were cast to shore as well. Their chains seemed to rattle a dirge for the departed cook as they trudged through the waters to the damp sand.

Their faces all held the same numbness even through most had seen so many deaths before.

Silver was dead.

A jagged boulder caught in Rumpelstiltskin's throat as the three words struck him again like a blow to the face. The pirate had been the only one to truly befriend him. He had been kind in his larger than life, vociferous fashion and always one to share a tale and a laugh. He had been kind to the assistant who was little more than a slave and always made him seem as though they had equal status. Despite his profession he had been a good man and a good friend.

Now he was sinking to the bottom of the blue waters.

All the prisoners, even Bae were affected by the death of Silver. Their trek sandwiched between torch carrying pirates in the darkness was a solemn one. Grief and somberness claimed them so that they looked like some honorary funeral procession passing through the sands and entering the jungle.

Heads bowed, hearts filled, their thoughts rested dually on their fates and on Silver's ill met end.

In the end with his last act of friendship and loyalty he had saved Bae from being terribly beaten and Belle from rape. Gaston was too busy trying to mend his face for either of the ignoble activates.

Silver at least had dealt him a few good blows before his death.

Walking in front of the dour party of prisoners, Blackbeard had no such mourning for the corpulent cook. A jolly swagger kept his stride as he hacked down stubborn vines and high grown undergrowth to clear a path.

The going was laborious but the stench of victory and gain filled his nostrils, prodding him to go on.

Though he had no knowledge of a true path, all he really needed was the mountain as a guide. They were headed to the mystical mountains. All they needed was to clear a path to reach them.

The sun had fully set when the captain called a stop in the midst of the jungle. Bright stars glittered above them like cherished diamonds to look down upon the crowned peaks, but the bed of sable so high above was almost blotted out by the thick canopy of entangled exotic trees.

The thick, wide leaves and twisting branching created a thatch roof high above them leaving the night sky far away. In the thick, humid and stifling jungle, they might as well have been in a cave rather than the outdoors.

With only their torches to guide them, the pirates set up a hasty camp. Guards were posted at the outer, encroaching fingers of the forest that seemed to hedge into the hastily erected camp and whatever could burn that they scavenged was set into a blaze in the middle of the encampment.

By Blackbeard's orders the prisoners were divided into two sets and chained close to the fire and the rest were allowed to sleep where they may.

Once the chores were at an end the dreaded captain stood before the fire. Arms crossed in satisfaction he stared at those who had accompanied him to the isle. His dark eyes gleamed devilish, burnished coal from the bright embers that swirled up into the humid atmosphere. The flames bronzed his pockmarked skin into the glow of dirty, haunted gold as he stood to address his crew and captives.

"Well we're here in the very thick of things. Tomorrow we make for the mountain and our riches." His glittering gaze turned perceptively to the spinner. "I suggest you not try anything tonight, either cripple. Silver was but an example. Remember you have two people you care for here. One can be spared to keep you in line."

For that reason he had separated the prisoners. Not only would that keep them from gathering for any plan, one set contained Belle, whilst the other held Bae. If the cripple dared try anything he perhaps by some stroke of luck could free one, but he would never be able to free the other.

Turning his gaze away from the captain, the spinner stared down at the trampled leaves and snarled roots under them. He knew what his fleeing would entail and any sort of plan to free the prisoners as well.

Blackbeard allowing him to walk about freely was more of a message than any confident mistake. He could not leave them for sake of those he loved being killed. As long as he stayed he was nearly guaranteed to do the deed that was to come. His very presence, unchained, assured Blackbeard he would do anything for their safety.

"I won't escape," he promised sourly, his voice lower that the crackling wood of the fire.

Blackbeard gave a curt nod, taking his word. "That's settled then I suggest everyone who can get some sleep. Those who fall asleep on lookout, I won't hesitate to gut and leave for whatever predators scourge this place to pick clean."

Murmurs of acknowledgement arose like distant thunder from the wary, weary crew to their captains words. Blackbeard meant every word, then knew, and wouldn't hesitate to slay any of them should they fail.

Eyes darting about warily as Blackbeard retreated to his ponderings, Rumpel hastily made his way over to the prisoners that were shackled with his boy. His movement only noted a few glances from the jailors but no more than rudimentary curiosity. He wouldn't try anything for to disobey the captain would mean one of those he loved were sworn for a tortuous death.

Pointedly ignoring the jailors, the spinner hunkered down near his son. Wrapping his arms about his boy, he held him tight for the first time in what felt like forever. In the time that Gaston had captured him, he had not seen much of his precious son. Now, perhaps for the last time, he had a moment to clutch his boy.

"Bae," he breathed the name like thanksgiving to an answered prayer. "Are you alright, son?"

No lad should have had to go what Bae had gone through, but since he had there had to be fear in his heart. There had to be a place of fright in him that he had kept carefully locked

Nodding, Bae seemed much smaller than the rebellious fourteen years old he was. Now with his father near, he felt his courage quail a bit in the safety of his parent. "I'm fine, papa, but what are we doing here?" though everyone else seemed to have some inkling of the truth, Bae was ignorant of daggers and wishes. "Why did they let you walk free, why can't you free us?"

"A cruelty, nothing more," Rumpel lied past the growing boulder lodged in his esophagus. His eyes reddened with unshed tear but he will the salty liquid away. Part of him wanted to tell the boy the fate that would be met on the morrow, but he could not induce such pain upon his son. Better his worry than his sorrow. At least he could spare has son that much, however small a time he could.

"Oh far more than that," Gaston interposed ruthlessly. His voice had a nasally drag as he spoke. Walking forward, his features showed the mutilation of Silver in the golden firelight.

The swelling in his left eyes had gone down little leaving him to open the orb to but a seeping slit. His nose had been set by some careful hand, but the proboscis was still swollen to the point he sounded ill. The missing tooth showed the gap only when he spoke for he refused the wide grin to display that hole.

Striding over like the physical epitome of misery, the traitor stood lordly over them. Hands posted at his hips he looked down to the pair with disdain and hatred. "Tell me lad do you know what's in store for you father?"

Dread filled Rumpel in terrible pangs that rocked the very core of his soul. His gut twisted nearly beyond redemption at what Gaston meant to do. How could one man hold so much cruelty? How could he relate that a boy was about to lose his father?

"Please," he quivered timidly to the brute. "Please don't…."

Bae turned to his father. "Tell me what? Papa?" his voice fringed anxiety and alarm. "What's he talking about?"

"Stay silent, please," Rumpel begged the boson. His grip tightened on has son as though he could block the words that Gaston so readily wished to divulge.

Staring down at them, the traitor seemed to regard the plea. His face beamed with the ruddy intoxication of cruelty and having the spinner beg him for anything. Power flowed through him with such a demeaning act. To see others brought low was ambrosia to the bully and he savored the terror and pleading like a sip of fine wine.

Face furrowed in mocking consideration, the boson nodded laconically. "On one condition."

"Anything," Rumpel promised helplessly. "Anything."

Putting a foot forward, the boson grinned down cruelly. "Kiss my boot," he voiced sinisterly.

"Wh- what…?" the spinner blinked up through tears, shocked by the demeaning request of the traitor.

Why would he ask something to humiliating?

"You heard me," sneered the traitor and inched his foot forward. "For my silence. Kiss. My. Boot."

Shaking his head, the spinner tried to change his mind. "I can't.… not in front of my boy…. Plea-"

"Do it!" Gaston bellowed, his voice like a whips lash.

Falling face first, the spinner chocked back his shame and disgust. Closing his eyes to fight back tears he kissed the traitors boot so his son would not know the erroneous fate that would meet his father.

"There," Gaston chuckled satisfied and kicked the spinner away. "Not so hard." Satisfied with what he had done, he turned away back to the fire.

"Papa!" Bae was to his father's side in a moment. Helping his father up him could feel nothing but concern for his father. Not ever hatred seeped through his veins. What was the secret that his father tried to veil? What would happen tomorrow?

Pain flared through Rumpel's head from where the brute had kicked him away. Flashed of black and blue strobed his vision making the dark seem even darker. Wiping his lips, the spinner slowly sat up from where Gaston had kicked.

His eyes darted hatefully to the back to the boson, before his eyes found Belle on the other side of the enactment.

Tears plainly filled her eyes as she watched on. She had been helpless to watch the cruelty of Gaston, helpless to erase the fate that sat above Rumpel's head. She had been helpless to help Silver, helpless to help any of them.

From across the fire, despair seeped like acrid poison into her heart. Blackbeard had all but won. They where helpless and things were hopeless.


	21. The Mountain

Hazy golden streamers of sun slanted pleasantly through the thin breaks in the tangled canopy above the enchanted island. The rays seemed to fall like strange showers of flaxen light leaving pockets of capricious darkness about the gold spears wherever they touched. Sun motes played lazily and danced fervidly though the shafts of tawny luminance while the entire jungle seemed to come alive to the beckoning of the rare oblique rays that kissed the tangled floor.

Birds of every conceivable hue who trilled every musical annotation gathered upon the creeper strewn branches of the entangled trees. Their grand plumages that rivaled the rainbow near glowed in the sunlight as they watched the pirates below them like eager, vociferous spectators.

Too few ever came to the island under the birds keen eye and none had survived to tell the tale.

A grimace etched Belle's lips as the musical birds intoed the break of day. The avian creatures songs seemed to mock her plight and that of her captured crew. Bound by the throat with no resources she could not save her crew or her love. Hades curse her but she couldn't even save herself from the clutches of one devious pirate!

Thirst hounded Belle as she glumly awoke with such thoughts, but the bile of her fate moistened her mouth with poison. Her hunger was one that led to disgust and her pains of rest on the root meshed ground throbbed with her crimes. The day seemed made to illicit her torment and she was hard pressed to end the suffering.

If everything went Blackbeard's way this would be the day Rumpelstiltskin died.

"Don't those creatures sound so beautiful this morn," Blackbeard commented in victorious admiration. Hands clasped to his wide black belt, the pirate captain stood by the embers of the nights fires and tiled his filthy head upwards to the chorus of birds.

Sun splattered a golden glow over his swarthy visage like a blessing sent from the top of the cramped mountains. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the sweet exotic smells of the isle and reveled in the day that appeared to turn out for his triumph.

"Aren't those birds lovely?" he exhaled and looked towards Belle. His lips upturned into a wolfish grin that sought to devour all she held dear. "Like a choir singing for me."

Belle scowled hatefully into his face, unable to even conjure up the tactile captain to revoke his words. If looks could have killed she would have already taken control once more. "You always did think you were larger than life," she fenced back, her voice a disgruntled growl.

"Aye and now I finally get to really have that true on all accounts," he parried happily to her dissatisfaction. If he was in anyway affronted by her snap, the signs never gave way to display his irritation. With victory so near how could he be angry?

Chuckling to himself as if he told himself some humorous joke, Blackbeard looked at pirates and captives strewn out over the warm jungle floor. None seemed to have slept well, but what did they matter but to serve as stepping stones for his needs?

A bark of laughter vomited from his lips, for he was in too fine a mood for his normal snap. "Up and at 'em my lucky friends! Can't you smell the stench of spoils on the air? Can't you feel the tingle in your fingers and drumming in your hearts? There is power to be had."

With a bit of flare, Blackbeard unsheathed his blade, a wicked cutlass that had served him through many straits. The curved steel gleamed almost liquid in the vibrant gold light as he pointed the tip to the direction of the foreboding mountains in the hazy, blusih distance. The tangled mess of vines and low limbs barely gave a view to the enchanted peaks below the canopy. "There beyond the stone lies our destiny and power without limits!"

There would lie his greatest triumph.

"How quickly you forget the dangers Blackbeard," Belle put in wryly, her words like a rain cloud over the rays that illuminated the happy captain. "Tell me, did you happen to mention to your fine crew the dangers that come with entering that mountain?" Before he could interpose with some excuse she plowed onward with the devious traps that awaited them. "You see, if you've thoroughly scanned the legends and texts as much as I then you should know about the room of one thousand knives, the steps, if walked upon, that send arrows tipped with acid through the rooms, or maybe the floors that shatter leading to sable waters that are mired with beast that have not eaten for seven eons to feast on their flesh not to mention the multitude of traps that we know nothing about since the text has worn away to time."

Though she was helpless to gainsay the nefarious captain she was not completely out of options. Fear worked well with any living creature. He could not do the mission alone. His crew was still needed but if there fear held them back he would be just as good as stranded.

Confused, frightened looks passed amongst the pirate crew at such perilous entrapments that were revealed. Danger flourished in their stock and trade but such perils were un- heard of. They dealt in plain battles, nary magical rooms laid with tricks and mythical beasts to combat.

Passing strange glares to one another, a daunted look hedged their tired eyes and hesitation pulsed in their greedy hearts. The former exuberance in their bodies was banked like an old fire in light of the news. Was the dagger truly worth such bodily risk? Would they even find the blade?

One frightened soul visibly gulped as the immense hazards Belle had so described swam through his head in a flurry of barely conceivable nightmares. With the back of his hand the man wiped cold beads of sweat from his filthy visage and shuddered violently even in the warm morn. "Cap-"

He got no further as the captain whirled about and with one swift stroke severed his head from his body. Blood spurted in a gory fount from the base of the neck where the head was once perched before letting the crimson essence burble copiously down the still body.

A look of trepidation still clouded the nameless pirate's features as the head bounced away like a misshapen marble into the undergrowth and the body tumbled to the jungle floor.

Looking down critically at the oozing corpse, the captain slowly raised his vision to his crew. Deadly severity gleamed like iron rivets in his gaze. "Deserters will die by my hand long before any trap sets hold. We're here now. We go all the way come death or demise. Is that clear?"

Hasty nods bobbed from all the pirates who acquiesced immediately in terror of their captain. None wished to face the cutlass of the notorious pirate. Though death may face them in the mountains, death was assured and imminent by Blackbeard's hand.

One by one Blackbeard looked into the eyes of his crew. Sword pointed at them like a compass needle seeking to find an untrue heart, he judged their intention before he slowly sheathed his blade.

Little by little a grin split his knotted beard as though his words were a jest. Once more a good humor, though strained, fell upon him. "Of course there are dangers my friends. Great gifts run great perils, but this dagger is not impossible to claim and those who make the journey will find themselves greatly rewarded!"

Or, they all knew, without him saying, dead and forgotten.

~8~8~

Steam arose from the jungle floor and through the thickly laced canopy like smoke from a thousand campfires as the party arrived at the foot of the mountains. The day, as they had journeyed, had grown near intolerably hot and the climbing simply to reach the base of the mountain had been no picnic for pirate or prisoner alike.

Moisture that rose from the verdant floor made the atmosphere humid and left the pirates struggling for breath in the tepid climes. More than once had the excited Blackbeard ordered a stop and more than once had a pirate collapsed only to either push themselves up or be killed by the ruthless captain.

They had walked for four hours and finally, the found themselves at the very root of the crested mountain. Though they should have found rest there, Blackbeard pressed forward to find some entrance to the mountain. They had trudged on for three more hours until finally, a scout had come across a cave nearly hidden in a tangle of brush.

Up close, the mountain was a far different spectacle than on the sea. Hundred of crags and ledges pockmarked the mounts sides like maggots had feasted on the stones flesh. An ominous air resided upon the slopes and crest and seemed to pulsate down to the very foot of the mount.

Still, after the strenuous labor upon reaching the mountains, the party had little room to care what ominous press the slopes gave. The shadow of the mountain was almost a blessing in the heat, providing much needed shade for the group.

A cold, musty wind seemed to blow down from the slopes and the crew and prisoners sprawled out unto the darkness for the coolness and much needed rest in the short grass that grew at the base of the peaks.

Sweat dampened every piece of ragged clothes they wore like a second skin. Sweat poured from every body and breath fell in ragged, painful puffs from prisoners and pirates alike.

Fatigued, but indefatigable, the captain caught his breath as he scouted their next move. The large mouth of the discovered cave was hewn a little to their left, a place easy to reach, the mountain could have been pockmarked with cavern so who knew which one was correct. The mountain was not made to be climbed, but the entrance before him clearly testified that they were to enter, though to their peril or victory was uncertain.

A hundred things could have been wrong with the entrance. What if the cave only led to a trap? What if the maw was too easily discovered and led only to a trick to end them all before they began? Still, what choice did they have?

"Alright," Blackbeard gasped fitfully and leaned back on the bark of an exotic tree. "No time to rest." With a stubborn grunt he pushed himself up and walked determinedly towards the black mouth of the cave.

A unified groan met his steps as tired eyes watched him make way to the cave. They should have been fresh and ready to enter into the cave. Instead they barely had fuel for torches, held few ropes, and carried a scant amount of food. They should have had a rest and gathered themselves but their captain's egregious will was indomitable.

Sharply turning to their unspoken complaints, Blackbeard eyed them all dangerously. "Well? What're you all waiting for? Up I say!"

"Captain," Gaston piped up breathlessly as speaker for them all. "We don't know what awaits us in there…. We need rest."

A threatening growl rumbled like thunder past the black follicles of Edward Teach's beard. Eyes gleaming fire he seemed caught by fury of eagerness. "We'll head out when I say we will!"

"That's right and leave them all weak enough to be expended," Belle attacked again, her breath a ragged gasp.

Blackbeard's eyes flickered to her, his fury unquenched. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he took a step towards the captain. Her ploy was obvious the first time, but so close to his goal he could not afford a moments hesitation from his crew. "You just keep your mouth shut before I shut your gab permanently!" He roared and raised a hand to strike her.

If she wouldn't stop planting the thoughts of mutiny into his crew then he would make her silent. He had come to far to be undone by mistrust.

"No!" Rumpel was there in what seemed like a wink standing before the captain and his beloved. His breath came out more laborious than the rest of the pirates as he faced the resolute captain. "You wont touch her," he stammered fearfully. "I wont let you."

Now that they were so close, Blackbeard, he banked, would not try to lose his key so soon. In the shadow of the island Rumpel knew leverage was on his side. He was the one chosen to take his life for their security and freedom. Blackbeard wouldn't try to harm them so close to his goal and risk the trip for naught.

Glaring angrily at the spinner, the retreated a step. "Alright cripple. You have what you will. More incentive for you." Eyes steely again, he turned about to look at the now easily breathing crew. "But hear me, we go now!"

With that, the captain turned away. His ruby coat flapped like a battle pennant as he marched to one of the maws of the mountain.

A heavy breath of immense relief surged past Rumpel's thin lips as the nefarious corsairs stomped away. Turning to Belle he knelt to help her to her feet. "Here, we'd better get on the move again," he remarked sadly and took her hand.

Climbing to her feet, Belle stared into his compassionate eyes sorrowfully. "How can you sound so calm?" pain instilled her voice.

"We'd better get on" was for jaunts, small adventures not for someone who was soon to meet their end! He acted as though he was not going to meet his death. Why did he carry himself as though she did not deserve all the pain that was to come? Why did he blockade Blackbeard from the pain that was justly hers for getting them all into the inescapable mess?

"Everything is not as dark as could be," Rumpel explained timidly and limped along side her. At least he got to see her once more. At least he got to touch her. Perhaps Blackbeard would not be so cold and he could tell them goodbye before he died.

Belle shook her head. "You're going to die," she repeated lowly, her heart in her throat. "All is dark."

She was bout to lose her love. Fate was about to separate them. Her anger and stupidity was coming back to bring more pain than before.

"For love all is light. What kind of man would I be if I did not try to save those I love and cherish?" the spinner countered and grasped her hand comfortingly. Holding her hand, they entered the darkness of the cave together.

Immediately darkness overcame them as they entered the maw of the cave. The susurrus of bare pirate feet over dust and pebbles filled the cave with a foreign sound that made goose flesh arise on the skin. A shiver trailed miserably down their spines as the mountain seemed to engulf them as they entered in twos and threes. A strange coldness encompassed the mountains inside and breath came out in small puffs from every pirate and captive. The chill seemed almost like a chill of death to forever freeze them how they were.

Without word from Blackbeard, a few pirates alighted rags bound on sturdy limbs to guide their way. Their soft orange glow seemed unwelcome in the mouth of the cave. The fire seemed as though the flickering light had awakened something long sleeping but had made no move to attack them.

Still, the light achieved some ends to the darkness letting the whole of their entry be seen. But with a look, the heart desired blackness nearly once more. The inside of the cave was a disturbing thing. The roof was mazed with stalagmites that looked as fangs about to chew them whole. The furthest portion of the cave was made into an alcove shape and trailed down like a throat all the way down to a belly.

Grabbing a torch, Blackbeard stepped forward feet before them all. His eyes searched the dimness greedily. Traipsing further into the dimness the captain peered up above the tunnel.

"Give me a light," he ordered without turning his head.

Immediately a torch neared so that he could make out what was above the tunnel. A few words hewn from a lost age glimmered like forgotten jewels in the firelight.

Puckering his eyes, he tried to decipher the words. "Here lies the accursed blade. Let the cold of the steel not lead you astray for the blackness within is hotter than flames."

Silently re-reading the lines again, the captain posted his fists and his hips. "Now I wonder-"

He got no further as the cave began to rock and quiver. Stray pebbles and hunks of gray and brown rock began to topple from the ceiling as the cave quaked. The grating rasp of stone on stone cut through the air like a knife slicing terror to the heart of the crew.

They had not been all in the cave for but a finger few of minutes and already the magic wards reared to beat them away.

Light from the torches undulated across the rough walls crazily as the torch bearers sought a way free or tried to hide from the apparent cave in. The shadows pranced madly upon the stones as though living the terror mere words could not postulate.

A shriek rent the air from one of the pirates as a broke stalagmite hurtled down upon him and snuffed out his life. Larger chucks of roofing began to fall around them in a rain of death.

"Back out!" a terrified pirate screamed frantically, uncaring about the blade of the captain in the throes of the quake.

Oh but once in the mountain, Belle knew, escape was impossible.

At once the grounds shaking began to take on a new aspect in the demise of the pirates. An aspect of trickery. Beneath them the grating became louder as though rock was being shoved into place or out of socket.

The stone began to take on a life of its own that made the earth beneath them move. Walls began to push or recede as the floor began to grow lower or take on higher elevation. All about them, the mountain was moving.

Already some of the pirates were blocked off from their brethren. Ariel and Robin were cut off from their groups, their chains snapped off by the hard stone that broke iron like bits of dried twig.

The mountain was making sure they could not stay as a group, but die or be allowed to wander through mountain that forever changed and left them in spattering of fours and fives at most.

"Rumpel, Bae, everyone, stay close to me!" Belle ordered evenly in the tumult. Wrapping one around the spinner she did the same to Baelfire. From the corner of her eye she saw Jefferson try to reach them only for another wall slammed in front of him blocking him off from the group.

Screams became shallow and distant as the mountain puzzle twisted them in the caves and in rooms of traps. The shrieks were of those who had discovered they had been buried alive, yet could only yell loud enough for their words to be a mutter of their terror.

Once the quaking ended, Belle opened her eyes. The path behind them could have well as been a wall the entire time and they had arrived in a dead end. There was no way out anymore from whence they had come.

By either blessing or curse she found the same path before them open and the only people around to stop them Gaston, Blackbeard and one unlucky soul who'd been close enough not to be taken into another cubby of the mountain.

Belle had no recollection of his face, but she hardly dwelled on the matter. She and Bae where still outnumbered against two skilled pirates and chained up as well.

Breathing hard, she finally let Rumpel and Bae go. Dust arose from there tumult and all coughed into the gray and brown film but they were little worse for wear. The mountain had done the job of separating them effectively cutting off nearly every resource they had.

"Well captain," she spat past a puff of dust. "What about your grand schemes now?"

Scowling, he grabbed the torch from the nameless pirate and began to head down the throat of the inscribed tunnel. The light showcased a flimsy shadow around the esophagus of the tunnel, but still undaunted as ever. "We're not defeated yet, Captain Belle. We have a way, our only way." He nudged his head to Gaston and unsheathed his weapon with a light rasp. "Make sure you keep an eye on them. Let's move. The only way we'll be getting out of here now is if we discover this blade."

"Did you think there any other way?" Belle asked sardonically, but was met only with silence as they were prodded down the mysterious tunnel.

~8~8~

Hours, perhaps three of four, to Rumpel's estimate had passed as they had searched the tunnels. The first tunnel had deviated down into a medusas head of off tunnels but they had kept pressing on by the determination of Blackbeard.

The hours seemed to meld together well in the darkness so that the minutes that ticked by all meshed into unreliable gauges. Had they been there, three hours or eight? Did the sun still shine or was the moon high?

Such questions plagued the spinner as they walked in the ever frigid mountain. And the more they walked the more he began to worry. What if they were down some endless corridor to go forever in circles until their bones were dust? What if the tunnel was to be their prison?

Though the thought of having Blackbeard meet his end in the tunnel was a pleasant one, the spinner quailed to think of such a fate to his son or his Belle. Better that they find the dagger and be free than that fate of dying alone and forgotten in the tunnels.

And yet, there was no evidence they were close to the dagger. Not only did they have to way or knowing where they went, they had no way of guessing what way was the right way.

And so they ambled aimlessly, searching and searching, forever searching.

"Papa my feet...," Bae panted as the rounded what seemed like the thousandth curve.

A bright intrusive pounding flared through the boys feet with every step. Guts of pain exploded into him with the ragged nonstop walking. The pace was a cruel one and with the cold that surrounded them his bones felt brittle.

The only saving grace was the warmth that the spot he passed seemed to house, easing his misery a bit.

They had walked nearly without rest for Blackbeard wanted no malaise to take them where they could not rouse themselves to search.

Looking back, Rumpel paused a moment and scrambled back to his still son. "Take a slower time. Remember to press lightly," he tired to help and in doing so try to give the last words of wisdom to his boy.

Tears filed his eyes at the thought but he blinked them away. He could not cry in front of his son.

Coming to a halt, he handed his son his staff. "Here maybe this will-"

"Who said you could stop!" Gaston roared. His voice bounced off the small tunnel as he padded towards them.

Rumpel dipped his head in deference to perhaps mollify the brute. "Please my boy, he's very tired. This place has only been so cold and unforgiving, right here it's…." his voice came to a halt.

That couldn't have been right.

Both spinner and pirate looked as though epiphany had struck.

"Warm." Gaston caught up immediately. "Warmth…." Turning to the dimly fading light he hailed Blackbeard. "I think we're on to something!" Though he was no thinker his mind readily drew back to the words over the tunnel those hours before.

"What?" Blackbeard came back into dim view. His face dared no excuses to stop his mad race to claim the dagger

A voracious smile alit Gaston's features. "Feel that?"

"Feel…." Revelation arose on Blackbeard's features. "The airs different."

Moving about like a blind man, the captain seemed to walk with the warmth until he reached the left wall of the tunnel. Placing a hand on the wall, the captain moved his palm in search of the warmest spot. Gradually, the flakes of dust and dirt began to come off and in what felt like a breathless heartbeat the nefarious captains fingers were hooked upon a stone latch.

Exuberant, with a slight shove, the captain pushed the door forward. A hint of white light gleamed through and there before him was a room in the shape of a deep cistern. A row of stairs scaled down to the center of the room where shone from above a column of light and standing on a pedestal in the midst of the alabaster column was the object they had long sought.

The dagger.


	22. A Death

Quiet awe mystically infused the wretched party that had stumbled upon the blade. The warmth that radiated from the room seemed to seep into their cold wracked flesh like tendrils of steam, caressing them with the intangible reality that what they saw was real. Before them under a pillar of soft, tranquil light lay the metal that had snared all their fates.

"The blade," the words tumbled from Blackbeard's foul mouth like a miracle had been preformed before his eyes.

Wide eyed, his gaze stayed stapled to the blade residing in the column of light. After so long, the blade was within his grasp.

Belle flinched as the word of awe escaped his mouth. To her the words might as well have meant the last strains before death. Though she was astonished as them all, her joy was tainted with the knowledge of what was to come.

Closing her eyes the beauty gathered herself for one last attempt to sway the pirate from his course. "Black-"

"The time for our debate is done, Captain Belle." The nefarious pirate stated simply without anger or joy. Ecstasy beamed in his sallow eyes leaving no room for clever rebuffs. Turning to Gaston, he unsheathed his blade again and nodded to the brute. "Gaston you keep your blade on the boy, I'll take our fine captain here."

Hand curled around her upper arm and blade placed behind her neck, the captain ordered the frightened pirate left with them to guard the door and began Belle before him on the narrow stairwell down the curve of the bowl.

Carved delicately into the white rock of the bowl, the stairwell was treacherously narrow to traipse. One false move dared to end their lives but after all the time searching for the blade on lands and sea, the treacherous clime was a laughable peril. The pillar of light gave the entire enclosure of the dagger enough luminance to see by making the going easier but still slow.

One by one, Rumpel in the lead, followed by Blackbeard, then by Bae and Gaston they made their trek down the long forgotten bowl. Blackbeard had been wise to situate Rumpel for if he dared attack in the last minute, his son all the way at the back would go careening off with one push from Gaston.

They looked akin to wary shadows upon the walls as lower and lower they spiraled to their destination. Only the faint rasp of dust and dirt under their feet leant the party any sound as they scaled down the forlorn steps. Each was quiet with the contemplations of their own thoughts and mysteries or triumphs.

She would lose her love.

He would gain the utmost power.

He would gladly sacrifice himself for those he loved.

What was the somber secret they wished hidden?

Now finally he would have his heart and power!

Almost too soon the party came to the base of the dagger chamber. The bottom of the bowl was flat leaving no treacherous footing to take hold. With only the dagger in the center the room was bereft of any other amenity. The entire floor and the column itself seemed to have been molded as one as though carved from soft limestone.

So close! Blackbeard's heart galloped wildly in his chest with the dagger so near. Blood pounded like a thousand wild galloping horses through his hear. His nerves quivered near to the point he was in physical pain, oh but the emporia of knowing he had won!

Sidestepping around the curve of the bowl, with Belle in tow, he held his cutlass behind her so that the tip was aimed at her heart from her back. Though his swords could do little against her heartless self, the message that Rumpel would loose those he loved sent the message cleared than anything.

"Well then cripple," his voice was a husky rasp of excitement. Licking his lips pensively, he nudged his head to the light. "Go on."

"Rumpel, no not for my sake!" Belle busted painfully, her voice jagged with dudgeon.

Too far to be stopped, the pirate captain pulled her close. In an instant his blade was from behind the woman to her throat.

The keen edge gleamed in the white light and seemed to relish the chance to open her jugular to torment the cripple. Just daring to rest against the flesh the sharp edge lay on the very cusp of slicing a crimson smile upon her neck.

Snarling beneath his matted black beard, the nefarious captain held her tight with warning. "The dagger, cripple, or the boy dies before your eyes. As for the captain here… well, there are more than one way to make certain she remains in eternal torment if you refuse."

He had no time for last minuet heroics that would only draw out his victory. He wanted the blade!

Clutching his gnarled staff in a wrenching grip, the spinner swallowed hard. "Before I do," he stammered painfully. "I wish to speak to those I love, and then I will do as you please."

With his end so near would they not allow him a few last words to his love and his son? Could he not even say his goodbyes?

"We don't have t-" Gaston began to protest only to be stopped by a glare from the captain.

Measuring the intentions of the cripple, Blackbeard judged out his words against his impatience. Pleading and whining from the man would only extend their ordeal and prevent the dagger from falling into his hands. Better to let him have his words before he died. "Five minutes," he grunted in acquiescence and slightly released his hold on Belle. "No more."

Almost as if he hadn't heard the acceptance, Rumpelstiltskin turned to his son. The warmth of love melted his heart in into a pool that seeped into his veins. Looking at his son he could see just how much he had grown. He was no longer the skinny little lad that had gamboled with the sheep and played beside his father when they walked to market. He was in the throes of turning into a young man.

Rumpel's bottom lip quivered tremulously as he took all his boy in. Strange, he thought for a moment, that he had not seen all those years upon him before until that moment. Tears rimmed his chocolate eyes though he held them back as he stared at his boy for the last time.

"Bae," he spoke the name like the first time he had when his son was a new born. "You're growing up to be a fine man son. A fine, brave man. I need you to have that bravery now, for all of us."

Tears gathered in Bae's eyes as the unspoken words they dared not relate before displayed themselves. Dark curses at himself wracked his troubled heart with the light of the dire knowledge. He should have seen sooner, he should have known that he was walking to his father's death. With those words, words of encouragement a father spoke, he knew without them ever saying a word that this was his papa's end.

Hot tears fell from his face as he stared at his loving father. "Papa," he name came out in a croak. "You can't… die. You're my papa."

Through all the trials they have ventured since that fateful day when they were taken away, he had never thought his father in mortal danger. He never thought of watching his father die. To him, his father could have lived forever. His end was impossible, even more unbelievable than the dagger behind him.

Choking back his sorrow the spinner smiled sadly. "We all have to meet our ends sometimes, son." He laid a hand on his shoulder and beamed as proudly as his fear could allot. "This just happens to be mine. But I can only be a little sad. I am so proud I have watched you grow up to be this young man. I wish I could be around to see how further you grow, but I know you will be a thousand times the man I ever could be. You will be strong and brave and smart and lead a life of legends and I know without a doubt you will do me proud."

Wrapping his son tightly, he kissed the crown of his shaggy brown head and squeezed him until he thought he might shatter. The quiet shivering of sobs from his boy was heart wrenching but the spinner believed every word that had come out of his mouth in his goodbye. His son would be brave and stalwart and grow up to be a good man.

After a moment he slowly released his tear burdened son. With one last terrible look of goodbye he swung his head over to Belle.

Head down and cast away, the beauty looked as though she prayed the floor would sallow her up and rend her life away. Because of her this had happened. Because of her a boy would loose his father.

"Belle." He slowly limped towards her and touched her shoulder. "You know what is in my heart. You know the love I feel for you and the words I would like to say. You know the thousand words I could not relate now, you know the feelings I can not show now. My time grows short but I want to say only that I love you. I do not blame you for this. My heart still warms for you like the first day I felt your affection. I can't be otherwise. I love you."

He loved her no matter what she had done. He could not help but love her, all of her in her darkness and her light.

Because of Blackbeard's hold he could not hug her as he wished. Instead he placed his hand upon her cheek and lifted her weeping face towards him. "I only ask you one thing," he asked tenderly, his voice a rasp.

"Anything," she promised fervently and wrapped her delicate fingers around his calloused hand. He could have asked for the world and she would have worked the rest of her life to deliver upon that promise.

Finally a tear long pent, spilled down his weathered face. "Take care of our son," he stammered through the fretful emotions clogged in his throat.

"I will give him every worldly comfort," she promised. "Even if I that will never erase the pain of losing you."

Swept up in her response, Rumpel dared the blade that separated them. Pressing his mouth to hers he sealed his goodbye with a tender kiss.

The farewell lasted a second more before he backed away. His time was over.

With one sweeping looking for those he loved, the spinner brushed the tears from his eyes with his ragged, filthy sleeve and nodded to Blackbeard. Turning away, he hobbled slowly to the dagger.

Laid carefully upon the white pedestal, the dagger was nothing truly extraordinary to look at. The blade was crafted of beautiful silver into a wavy kris shape. Lines of some black markings scored the flat of the blade in a curious swirl. The handle was sable and wrapped in dark leather and the pommel held a small smooth, black ruby the color of blood at the very end.

Eyes pinioned upon the blade, the spinner limped into the alabaster light until he came to a stop over the pedestal. Slowly, almost dream-like he placed his gnarled crutch against the pedestal and grabbed the daggers handle. The blade felt no different than any other he had picked up and he had to wonder if the dagger was but a fake to throw them off the trail.

Fear gripped him with icy claws at the though of his sacrifice being for naught, but then, if someone where trying to keep the mystic weapon from getting into others hands wouldn't they make any fake daggers seem fraught with power to lead others astray? Perhaps only after his sacrifice he would feel the power.

Staring down at the bald in his hands, the spinner frowned grimly. There was only once way of knowing.

Handling the blade he began to decide the grisly details of how best to meet his end. He would not have enough power to stab himself thought he chest. To slice himself across the gut would only draw out the pain and gory misery of his demise and he wished not to see those he loved watch in horror as he squirmed in agony as his blood and intestines oozed. His wrists would have to do he surmised lugubriously.

Swallowing hard, Rumpel held out his right arm. His spindly appendage seemed to quiver as he lay his arm upon the pedestal like some heathen sacrifice. Taking the blade in the other hand, he laid the tip against the pulse point.

Nervously licking his dry lips with an even drier tongue, he prepared to do the dead when the other side of the blade caught his eye.

Shadowed against the white light he only caught a glimpse of something different on the flat of the other side of the dagger. Reframing from ending himself so soon, he turned the blade over for what ever could have marred the other side.

Confusion lightly scrunched upon his brow as four little letters engraved upon the dagger were laid before him. Stepping a little close into the brilliant light, he read the letters scrawled upon the steel. "Zo…so?"

Power that he previously thought defunct instantly reared within the strange blade. A sharp bolt of darkness shivered through the steel as though the armament was struck with lightening. The warmth of the room turned intolerably hot and the white light of the pillar seemed to diminish as though some black shadow encompassed the room.

Behind him a collective, terrified gasp arose from pirates and captives alike.

Before the spinner cold react to their fright a voice froze him. "You summoned me?" a low, almost amused voice asked pleasantly.

Slowly, almost chained with ice, Rumpel lifted his head. Terror gleamed in his whiskey eyes at the sight of the dark, cloaked being standing on the other side of the column.

The same being, Rumpel knew immediately, that had stolen Belle's heart.

Donned completely in a black furred cloak, the figure stood like a hunter stalking a bit of lame prey. The wide cuffs hid his hands and the cowl of the cloak fell so far, not even a hint of flesh could be seen.

Frozen in abject terror, Rumpel could not find the words to speak. Needles of jagged frost seemed to pull down any words he might've conceived leaving him frozen before the powerful being.

Covered hand clasped before him, if the being was angry or happy could not be obtained. "Finally," the creature spoke again as though someone had responded to him. "I see someone has come across my dagger. At long last," his words trailed away with a sinister chortle.

"What sort of joke is this?" Blackbeard snarled past his incoherent shock. He had never heard that the dagger was tied to anyone. Perhaps the person was part of some elaborate trap to prevent them from taking the power.

Before he could say more, the cloaked being raised his right hand. Purple mist spewed from his palm towards the group of captors and captives. The amethyst magic swirled over them, freezing them all in place where they stood.

"There," the cloaked figure stated easily as though the nefarious pirate was a mere gnat buzzing in his ear. "Now they will not interfere with the words I must speak or cause you harm."

Swiveling his head back, Rumpel saw all four of them stilled and gleaming like lacquered statues. A sheen of light damson rippled across them as though they were frozen in some sort of coffin of water. Their eyes were wide with terror but words nor limbs could they move. For all he could do, he could go behind Blackbeard and stab him with the blade.

Turning back to the cloaked figure he shook his head nervously. "The words... Harm?" he asked hopelessly confused.

Interfere or cause him harm? What cryptic mysteries did the man speak?

Ambling around the pedestal, the cloaked being gave a lofty sigh as though he spoke to a dimwit. "You hold my dagger. The dagger of the Dark One. As the carrier of my dagger I cannot let anyone harm you… for the moment."

"No one… harm me?" Rumpel parroted uneasily. Looking down at the dagger thoughtfully as though just grasping some tendril of revelation, he pondered the implications. Why would he let no one harm him?

Abruptly, the answer came and he perched his head up again. "This dagger… controls you?"

The Dark One nodded as though the answer was of no consequence. "Of course. That comes with the power of the dagger. That is why I placed the mighty blade here where any soul who sought my blade would be hard pressed to reach the magic. You could by all accounts control me without restraint for there is little my magic cannot do." Rumpel could nearly hear the smile under the cowl. "But you don't want that."

"I just want to save the people I love," Rumpel countered warily and held the enchanted blade in a vice to his chest. If the dagger could truly make the being do what he wished then he could not lose the blade to any circumstance.

The being chuckled maliciously and shook his hooded head. "That's not all. Of course you want to save them but your intentions are not all pure. No one being is all goodness and I can see you are far from the purest heart I have found. You want something more." He neared the frightened Rumpel and sniffed curiously akin to a wolf with new prey. "Oh yes, I can tell what you want. You want the power not to be coward any longer." He shrugged and backed away again. "You could have that power you know. Only one strike with the dagger to kill me and all the power can be yours. So what do you want?"

"I-I don't need power," Rumpel stammered and limped a step away from the being as though he were tainted. "All I want is those I love to be safe. I don't want anything more, especially not this power."

A cruel bark of laughter erupted from deep inside the dark hood. "Liar," the monster spat in venomous amusement. "You want the power because you are a miserable coward," the cloaked being chuckled. "Your son thought you were a coward. And he was right. You are a craven pitiful being." He stepped about the scrawny Rumpel as though inspecting him from all angles.

"Oh but you are not merely a coward. You are angry. You are enraged at your weakness but you can't even admit _that_ to yourself. You are angry that you are not strong. You are angry that you became a slave and your ex-wife goes off living a life of her dreams and you have no strength to take what you wanted. No matter how much of your vaunted forgiveness you give you are angry that the woman you loved plan to murder you and you would have had no strength to fight," the Dark One explained as though peering into the dark crags of the cripples heart.

Shame filled Rumpelstiltskin's heart at the perceptive, painful words. Each played with fire in his heart, wrenching his soul. He knew his was angry at his helplessness but he had always accepted that fate.

He had always wanted to have a different fate, could he with the dagger?

"True now that you know what the dagger does you could have all of this erased by simply ordering me, but you don't want to control me," he cajoled perceptively, "For your power would not truly be yours but mine. I would just be another scion, a blockade from all the bullies that torment you in this world. You will never be accredited with the strength you truly want. You want the power you always dreamed of having at your fingertips, not at my hands. You want the strength that will show your son you're not weak and to show your love you can be the man she wants. You want to stop being a weak, cowardly man."

With a devious chuckle, the cloaked figured steps grew closer until the being was only a hairs berth away. "This dagger and one deed can make all you wish for in the depths of your heart become truth. One deed and those you love as safe and you can have everything you ever wanted. Don't deny that you want more for I have seen the desire in your dark heart. Now I ask you again, what do you want?"

Tears stung the spinner's eyes at the slicing question. This was the thing that had taken Belle's heart. This was the being to who he would have died in some mad scheme and left his son all alone. This was the man who spoke only the truth that lay in the dark pits of his soul. This was the being who housed all the power that, in all truth, he wanted. With the power at his fingertips he would no longer be the weak, tormented man he was.

Turning his gaze to the dark cowl of the creatures, the spinner let out a determined sob that sealed his fate. "What I want… is for you to die!" he spat in watery passion and drove the blade beneath the cloaked figures ribs.

A bloody grunt tumbled from the body of the creature as the dagger disappeared in robe and body. The being hunched forward slightly as his body sang dreadfully with the blade's releasing power.

Moments seemed to tick by in some slow reality as the blood slipped unto the blade. Then almost as though coming up for air into the proper line of time, the Dark One flung himself from the blade.

His body stumbled backwards and her fell hard upon his back on the stone floor. The force made the hood of the creature fall in doing so revealed the visage of the beast in the alabaster light.

The face of Long John Silver.

Shock took thrall of the spinner as he saw the face that shone in the snow white luminance. Cold surprise filled his senses at the familiar face. That couldn't have been possible. That was not possible.

As cold shock ran through the dagger chamber, a soft, gurgling laugh arose from the stabbed Silver. "Thank ye Rumple Bumble I always knew I could count on ye…." His voice shattered into a fit of bloody coughs.

"What… Silver…," Rumpel stumbled over the words that crowded from his lips. "I don't understand… how…?"

How was Silver alive? How was he there? How was he the being with such magic? Was the image before him merely a mirage or glamour?

Vapidly shaking his head, the Dark One quieted the spinner. "In a moment… first." With an effort he lifted a blood stained hand and waved his ichors slicked fingers through the air.

The rattling of chains and magic shifted through the air as the bindings upon Belle and Bae fell. A gasp fell from their lips as they sank to the floor free of their still frozen captors.

Turning to look back, the spinner breathed an immediate sigh of relief. In his shock he had nearly forgotten about them. And by the look upon Belle's face she seemed to have forgotten their straights as well.

A look of unadulterated shock marred her lovely visage. Tear stained eyes wide, she stared in blunt surprise. If she was angry to see the being that had took her heart, that fury was overridden by the pure surprise of seeing Silver there beneath the cloak that still haunted her dreams.

Weakly waving a hand, the injured Dark One forced himself against the smooth wall. "The time for truth has come," he grunted and beckoned Belle over once more. No more did he seem the mocking, cunning Dark One, nor the loquacious, lurid Long John Silver they had all known. He seemed a tired old man, trouble, but tired.

Numbly, almost against her own volition, Belle neared the bleeding out Silver. Blood oozed steadily from the fatal wound but the area barely seemed to bother him. Instead a sweet look of relief cascaded over his kindly features.

Kneeling down at his side, the beauty could barely comprehend the being before her. "Silver?" his name came out in a question.

"Only an alias, Belle," he grunted softly in a small bit of humor with what little strength he had. "Given the dagger an ironic one at that. You better know me as the being that took your heart all those years ago."

Unable to summon any fury, Belle could only shake her head. "How… why?" Why had he taken her heart and how had for so long he had been but the cook on her boat and never left a hint of who he really was?

"The tale is very long and I have not much time left for this world." Another cough flecked with blood wracked him. "But I will tell you what I can."


	23. All Becomes Clear

A wet rumbling grunt heaved from Long John Silver's lips as he invested the last of his strength to sit up against the white wall. His entire corpulent figure shuddered with the exertion as he finally managed to press his back against the bowl. Blood slowly leaked from his torso and oozed a darker black than even his cloak, staining the alabaster stone like crimson tears of happiness.

His plump fingers trembled as he dipped his digits into his wound and brought back his life essence but he wasn't quite dead yet. The wound was mortal to be certain but Rumpel was no expert fighter. The blade's strike had not killed him directly but would make him bleed out to his end.

Breathing hard, the Dark One leaned his head against the white wall and sought to catch his ever failing breath. His chest rose at a languorous pace that seemed painful but if he was in any torment the sight was never obvious upon his visage. Though his breath came irregular he looked comfortable and content with himself. With an aura of peace about him he could have just as well have been lying in a warm bed surrounded by loved ones than inside a mountain waiting for his blood to drain him of life.

Looking to the man and woman on either side of him, falteringly, he began his tale.

"Those long years ago, I was not the man you see today. There was no Long John Silver only Zoso, the Dark One. I was evil… perhaps I still am?" Regret tinged his wavering voice. "I was cursed with the powers of this blade and none were my equal."

"_Oh indeed. I had the whole world to roam where I pleased. I had everythin' at me fingertips all for the takin'." _Rumpel recalled the cook saying once. Then the words he had thought nothing but drawled bragging from a drunken pirate but now he felt the comment far more accurate than before.

"I was alive for so long, doing evil… making deals. I thought I would be unstoppable, but I soon became my own worry and threat to my joy. Instead of enjoying my power I grew to fear someone would enslave me and take the blade."

The words that the cook had said when they discussed the dagger flew back into the spinner's brain. _"I want to be free of this weakness. I've spent too long like this. Too long."_

"In my terror I searched high and low for some way to ease my fear. I found one. The way I could try to calm my tensions was a spell a dragon-witch kept which would make the dagger all but erased to history. The price she wished however…," he paused either for lack of breath or trepidation and cast his watery, once cheery eyes regretfully to Belle. "Was for two young, noble hearts."

"In my selfishness and fear roused up the ogres to assault a kingdom and I took those hearts. As the Dark One I succeeded and I was about to deliver my payment and yet… I looked into them. I saw Gaston's foul heart first. His was like I saw the world evil and corrupt within leaving nothing but a façade that they put out to guise their malice. He was what I feared, the kind of man with only darkness who would never think twice about claiming my dagger and making me a slave."

"_She didn't know until the end but I saw the vileness in ye all along!"_ He had said that only moment before he was "slain". Had he really known all along?

"But then." He paused for a tenuous moment to swallow the iron tang of blood in his mouth. "I saw your heart Belle and I felt shame. The goodness I had ripped from you tore the last vestiges of goodness my heart had once known. When I delivered the hearts the spell I enacted as my payment accosted me no joy. I realized I had forgotten what true goodness was and in so true happiness. Your hearts allowed me to be secure of where my dagger lay but the want of freedom from the entire thing, to know true freedom and happiness grasped at me without relent."

"I found I was miserable with my powers. I was miserable with my life and so I concocted a plan to finally free myself from the miseries and fears that haunted me so. I had lived so long, but I never knew happiness. So I thought of my conundrum. You see because of you for many a long year afterward I wished to be free of the dagger completely and I hoped my unhappiness and evil along with the accursed blade. Even though I was the most powerful man in the all the realms I grew to want death to be rid of this curse."

"That is when I thought of you. I knew you were driven to come to find your hearts again and as one of my last acts of evil I was going to use what you wanted to get what I wanted."

Staring into the haggard face, Belle finally saw the pieces go into place. "You've been behind everything all along…."

Silver nodded plaintively. "Truly, but at first I never had planned to be so deeply entrenched with these affairs, but then something went wrong. You let darkness into your heart. You became cold and uncaring and I knew without my direct guidance you would never find the dagger and rid me of this torment. You were driven only by anger and I knew had you found the dagger in such a way. I would run into the very fear I had sought to flee at first. So the rest of my plan became a tangled web. I joined your crew as 'Long John Silver' and led you to places with the last hints of my dagger. We discovered 'clues' I planted in hopes to lead us to the island where the dagger was sequestered and to find someone who would do the deed for you to kill me and not make me a slave as you would have done in your cold wrath."

"And in all the years Belle let me say the shame I felt for my deeds only grew more as I grew to know you. Belle I saw you as a daughter, for even your coldness cold not block out all that you are. You became someone very special to me and I hated what I had done." Eyes full of pleading, he seemed to want to pour his heart. "Belle I am... so sorry for what I have done to you. You know not how many days I have wanted to take back what I did and give you your heart. To explain everything to you... But alas, I still wanted to be free and my sins have always won over my scant virtues. I continued with my course, to rid myself of the misery. Then… we found the right one. Rumpel."

"_I hope you're better than the last assistant, I do!"_

Coughing up a clot of blood, he swallowed hard. "Finally after all the time that bound us searching for the one who would free, me we had found him. We were headed to our journey end finally, and you…." An ironic smile twisted his paling lips. "You fell in love with him."

"I tried to stop the passion from growing, Belle. Heaven and Hades know I did. I tried lying to cause a rift; I even put a compulsion spell upon his ex and her husband to come to the Paradise."

"_We weren't even going to come… but something changed our minds."_ Killian had commented that as he had escorted his heartbroken wife away.

"I thought if you didn't fall in love with him you would be able to do the deed, but my plans to draw you away weren't enough. You were drawn closer day after day and no amount of cunning or magic could sever you."

Raking a quivering hand through her hair, she cursed herself for being an idiot. "Every thing makes sense now. Every time we got into trouble you were there. When Gaston beat him…."

" _I don't know how he brought you through, but he did…."_

"You used Bae as an excuse to save us on the _Rose_ when Gaston betrayed us," Rumpel concluded hollowly.

"_Papa I don't even remember drinking."_

Slowly nodding, which more seemed as though he was drowsily falling to sleep, the Dark One barely kept his eyes open. His lids fluttered as though the heavy hand of death was adamant to close them forever. "Truth every bit. My hand was in all of those doings as well. I thought I could keep you apart but you fell for each other and I see I was wrong for trying to tear you asunder. Still even though I saw your love, my wants were not daunted. When I learned that Blackbeard was on our trail I submitted to let him think he had won."

"Which is why you let Gaston capture you." Belle fit another piece into place.

"_I can't believe I got one over on old Silver."_ Those had been Gaston's words as he pressed a blade at the cooks ribs.

A bloody, haggard cough gagged from the Dark One's lips. His mouth slowly began to dull into the waxy paleness of death and blood flecked his trembling lips with every hard word. "I have so long wanted to be free. Come friendships or closeness my will to be free was greater. So now we are here and I have taken this curse off of myself and put it upon poor Rumpel."

His breath came in sharp cuts as his near edged close. "But heed me well. All is not lost. You may not fall down the treacherous path I did if you have this love for one another. I thought your love a terrible block in my path but it is a blessing unto you both and perhaps all the realms."

Fingers atremble, he grabbed both their hands and placed them together like some shaman for a rite of marriage. "You need one another. Do not let darkness reach so deep into your hearts. Support one another and maybe… you will not fall into the same fate as I," he finished with a wavering smile.

As his words failed, the last bits of the name began to fade from the dagger. For a moment nothing occurred before the cooks breathing rattled in one of the precious few gasps.

A magical hum pulsed through Rumpel's hand as though reminding him that the blade was there. Staring down at the bloodied blade with his hand upon the kris, the spinner looked down in blooming horror.

The name Zoso was slowly faded like mist from the steel. In place of the simple title the flourished moniker of his namesake was being branded upon the metal. Very soon he would have the power Silver long sought to rid of himself.

Terror filled the spinner as he saw the passage of the curse. "No… no…." The spinner grabbed the old man who had become his friend and a traitor all in one. Desperation sparkled in his eyes and clogged his throat with a stopper of terror. "I can't do this. I can't handle this power. I don't know what to do. What do I do?"

"Do not," Silver gasped. "Do not forsake your love," he whispered in a rasp of hope. His eyes fluttered once more and finally, he was dead, released front his hundreds upon hundreds of years of evil.

Shock rocked Rumpel at the cruel twist of fate handled him. Power flowed like fire through his veins but he neither felt pain nor misery. He was now the Dark One. His friend had finally gotten himself free, but accosted him so much more the burden.

Looking down, he found his flesh changed to a terrible hue. His skin seemed to change to a lizard like grayish green. Was this a side effect of the magic as well, to let the entire world know who he was?

The look of ugly discoloration only lasted a moment before the delicate hand of Belle fell over his. Slowly as though trying to figure some tangled thought the spinner lifted his head up. Her smile, confident and full of love met him like a cold draught to cool the burn of malicious magic in him.

Without words her heart spoke to his. She would be there for him. His burden was not for him alone to carry. She would be yoked beside him to carry his load when the weight seemed too much.

Endowed with power, the spinner reverently pressed a gentle kiss to her hand then slowly rose.

Turning from the corpse of Silver, he looked back at the three behind him.

Bae stood nearly frozen though he was mobile. His wide brown eyes were stapled in awe upon his father, his jaw swinging free. Who was this man before him now with reptilian flesh and stood so tall?

Slowly a smile came across Rumpel's face. "Son," he breathed the words in vast relief as though he was seeing him for the first time in years.

Now with his power and the two frozen, he would no longer have to worry about his boy being slain. With the power now he could keep his boy safe. He could be all his son wished him to be.

Struck with the thought, the Dark One turned his attention to the two frozen pirates. The spell of Silver had not alleviated from their bodies leaving the two as they had been still with their blades risen and their forms solid as stone.

Terror expounded in their eyes, for the soul could not be so easily frozen as the body. Fear dilated their pupils into large black dots that knew only horror. They had heard all that was said and indeed they knew now what true peril was.

Pointing a discolored claw at them both, the newly christened Dark One snarled menacingly at them. "You would have killed my son. You would have slit a young boy's throat for your own ends and suffered to harm my love." An icy smile crept upon his lips. "But now.…"

Raising the dagger, for the power was still knew, to him, he wished for what he had long desired. Though the powers whispered the ways of which they be used, he felt unprepared to cast any spell himself. The texts had not lied when they said the dagger would grant all wishes and so for the moment he simply wished of the dagger to accomplish his deeds.

Immediately, the dagger responded to the wish and brought the two pirates to their knees. Still bound by the freezing spell, their bodies were moved forcefully to admit them into such a position.

The muffled cries of pain carried from their frozen mouths but the sonorous sound was akin to a suppressed scream of torment far in the corner of some stone dungeon.

Satisfied, Rumpel pulled his attention solitarily on Gaston. Revenge and menace gleamed like the brilliant alabaster around the room. "You made me kiss your boot in front of my son. You beat me near to death," he sneered hatefully, his lips pried back in fury with every true word.

Rumpel kneeled down to face Gaston, his face only inches from the brutes, but now, oh but now, with no fear. Hefting the dagger, he lay the flat of the blade on Gaston's cheeks. A pulse of superiority flared through him to see the terror that bickered like torchlight in his eyes. "And now I have this. And you will be the first one to feel my wrath in every nerve of your body."

Smiling, he slowly pressed the keen edge into Gaston's stubble ridden cheek. Hot blood surged from the sliced skin as though greeting the blade and dribbled profusely down the weapon.

Another scream surged from Gaston but the sound was muffled enough to come out like a dull mutter.

"That's right." Rumpel steadily brought the blade back to him, making sure the blade sliced through the flesh. "And now you will see just who is the strongest between us."

"Papa no!" Bae cried out, breaking the lovely moment of sweet revenge for the new Dark One.

Stilling, the Dark One turned to his son once more and came to his feet. Confusion pressed his gray-gold brow into a myriad of now glimmering wrinkles. Why did he call for clemency to the man that would have murdered him?

"This is what you wanted Bae!" Rumpel held his arms outstretched as though showing his son his all. His scaled skin gleamed a sickly green. "You wanted a strong father and here I am. The entire crew is under many thumb. With one snap of my fingers Gaston is a newt. I'm strong for you now, son. Just like you wanted."

Bae shook his head. "I was wrong, Papa. I didn't see your strength until today. You would have died for me. You would have died for her. You're better than this Papa. Isn't this what Silver warned you about, the power? You don't have to torture him Papa. Let's just. Let's just leave."

"Rumpel," Belle's voice broke in softly though there was no horror such as Bae's in her timbre. With a sigh she nodded and rose from the corpse of the man who had become her friend. "Baelfire is right. Vengeance is a terrible road to go down. I know how much you want to hurt them after all they have done. I know how much they deserve to be flayed until they scream for death."

Gaze flickering between them both, he stepped forward as though to make a plea for his cruelty. "Then let me take my vengeance. For the first time in my life I have absolute control over my fate, to judge what others have done against me, to fight back. Why shouldn't I kill those who have done me so much wrong?" He had power now. He could defend himself from whatever malice that brought to him. He could defend what belonged to him.

"Then you would have to kill me as well," Belle sighed sorrowfully. "Have I not done you just as much wrong?"

Rumpel blinked owlishly, momentarily looking the limp spinner again, then tossed his head. "No, no. I love you. You are good and kind. I will never use such means against you. But they are cruel and wicked and heartless. They don't deserve anything, certainly not my mercy."

"Which is exactly why you should give them that mercy," the beauty countered and drew near to him with the same love she shared upon the balcony of the Paradise. Her hand lay gently on his wrist that held the dagger. "Silver said love would help you see how to live with this curse. Vengeance does not breed love. You saw how miserable he was in the end. Don't start down that path, Rumpel. Listen to those you love."

Placing a hand over hers, the Dark One found her eyes. His heart now inundated and irrevocably bound eternally with the dagger melted for her words. What Silver had said was true. With her, the path to darkness would not be so readily taken. Without her, without them, he would have certainly tortured Gaston and Blackbeard to amend what they had done.

"Fine," he swallowed back his rage like a wad of bile in his throat. "But they cannot be allowed to leave this island. They would certainly come after us. I will try to gather Jefferson and the others and we shall take the ship and leave the others here with their captain. Once we are safely away I will let the freezing spell fall off of them."

Soft smile upon her lips, Belle reached up hand and stroked his cheek. Even with his fleshly discoloration she felt nothing but love for the man. "Thank you. That's the man I love."

Gathering Bae to him, the newly made Dark One put his arms around his boy and Belle and hugged those he loved tightly. They would keep him on a path befitting him. With them at his side, the evil that now twisted in his heart could be repelled.

As he hugged them his grip seemed to draw strength from them and with a deep breath he contacted the magic in the dagger. With but a wish to collect those he called friends and be aboard the Queen Anne once more, he felt the magic pulse through him like a newly released flood.

Dark amethyst magic curled from under his boots as though they were vines erupting from the stone floor. The magic spiraled over them; twisting fingers that engulfed them at his bequest and as they stood together their bodies began to fade.

With one last look back at the two frozen pirates a malicious smile crept upon Rumpelstiltskin's intangible face.

To be sure, the love of his son and Belle would help repel the new seeds of darkness that were planted within him.

Most of the time.

In an instant the trio was gone leaving only the corpse of Silver and the two frozen pirates.

Stillness engulfed the bowl that had once housed the dagger as though the interaction has never taken place. The only sound remained the near silent breathing of Gaston and Blackbeard still bound by the power. Left on their knees in the dagger chamber, they contended themselves to rage and too wait for the magic to wear away until a faint rustling reached their ears.

There, where the pillar stood, a small dust devil began to swirl by some foreign wind. Gray dust seemed to raise akin to ashes from the floor and grow larger into the strange vortex.

Wind whipped and whined and wailed as the whirlwind whisked into a funnel. The gray began to turn into a fearsome malicious black and grow along the stream of light in the center.

The wind howled its cheated rage and seemed to find the entrapment of the bowl displeasing. The end of the twister began to lash out like a whip as though searching for some amount of blood to temper the rage that had caused the whirlwind.

In an instant from the tornado's birth, the pillar that had long held the dagger was sucked away into the tornado. The column of light seemed to be snuffed out, leaving only the dangerous fury of the twister.

Eyes darting crazily the two pirates had only enough time to left muffled screams cross their lips before the twister snapped like a whip in their direction and they dissolved into the dust and ashes of death.


	24. Out of the Raging Storms

Anxiousness maliciously gripped Snow's valiant heart with razor claws of wariness as she paced in her cabin upon the _Prince Charming_. Worry stamped her lovely visage in the low lamp light glow and wrinkled the corners of her eyes with concern for her friends. Where had Belle, Silver, and the rest disappeared to? How had they simply vanished?

When the rest of the pirates had stumbled back to ship drunk and dazed they had listened in horror of the perils that had occurred and how they had not been found to meet the dangers with their captain. Ranting and swearing, the debated and bickered on whether to take the ship and try to find their beloved captain, but no one wished to take commanded of the _Rose_. To take command could mean that the mistress of the ship would never return to some of them. To take command would be to start from scratch on all their hard work and none wished to take up that burden so soon.

And so crew and friends sat nervously at port in the Paradise worrying over their beloved captain and the crew that had been snatched away like babes in the night. Who knew when they would return, if ever at all, but still they settled themselves like awaiting lovers to remain at the arms of the Paradise dock.

For Snow, two days had passed and the worry, like the dedicated crews, had only grown and mutated into frenetic energy she could scarcely dispel with any diversion. Her sole point of thought seemed to drive to her lost friend leaving time for little else but her worry and safety.

"Snow, I hate to say, but you pacing and worrying a hole in your bottom lip isn't gong to make them appear out of thin air," David sighed as he appeared in the _Prince Charming's _cabin.

The grayness of false dawn followed him through the opening of the door but died away again to even duller dimness as he shut the portal behind him. Stalking in the murky dark, he padded nearer to his wife and crossed his arms over his leather vest in disapproval.

Though he felt for the nervous anticipation of his wife, his daughter had made his patience narrow into a brittle twig. Emma had been worse than even the crew of the _Rose_. In her swiftness of losing Baelfire she had sobbed for the boy. Sobbed! She had wept for the shaggy brown haired lad who was taken away and despite ever false reassurance and comfort she was not to be assuaged.

In the short time they had been together, Bae had found a novel niche in her heart and losing him so soon only heaped on her agony.

After her moment of mourning, she had gathered herself and was as ancy and frantic as her mother or even more so. She hopped over to the _Rose _on what seemed an hourly basis to scan for clues or even hope that one time they would all simply be there waiting as though nothing had happened.

Wringing her hands, Snow's namesake features dipped into a sorrowful grimace and she tossed her head sadly. "I'm sorry, I know but I can't help but worry and feel a bit… guilty." Turning to look at he husband, she inhaled deeply as though infusing her words with her guilt. "David we should have gone with them. We should have tagged along despite what she asked. I feel that because we did not stand by them they're gone. Whatever Gaston had up his sleeve surely couldn't have withstood two crews."

She should have been there, standing beside her friend.

"What happened is not our fault, Snow." David closed the gap between him and his troubled wife. With a loving sigh he wrapped his arms around his love, held her close, and rubbed his hand along her back as his craned his head down to look into her worried depths. "Belle was right. Things could have gone worse if we had accompanied them. We can't prevent every tragedy and we can't dwell on what-ifs. Worry doesn't help anyone. Like I said, they're just not going to drop out of the sky-"

"Belle!" the shocked voice of a worried crewman called out luridly aboard the _Rose _shouted. In an instant the confusion was replaced with ecstatic excitement and the stampede of feet. "The captain, the captain!"

Finding one another's eyes, Snow and David stared at one another in invariable shock. Were they really…?

Abruptly a smile perched upon Snow's lovely features. Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle with hope. "What was that you said about dropping out the sky?" she teased lovingly before pressing her lips to his in a kiss.

As they parted from the assured embrace, Snow gave a bright little laugh and untangled herself from her husband's strong arms. Grabbing his hand like some eager child, she ran towards the door in order to see if the crewman's words were true and greet her returned friend.

The dawn was just breaking over the gray rim of the world as the captains appeared on deck. The few lanterns that bickered with low dirty light gleamed and sputtered fitfully enough for both decks revealing the truth of the look outs words.

There on the deck of _The Forgotten Rose _stood Belle, her captive, his son and those that had been missing from the original crew. Only Silver was missing from the returned bodies, but who knew where the wily Silver had slipped off too.

Walking towards the plank that connected their ships, the couple barely had time to step a foot unto the gang way before a blond blur went sailing past. By a mizzen rope, the daring Emma swung to meet the boy she had missed so grandly since he had managed to act so bravely in the face of Gaston.

"Baelfire!" she cried his name like child would a delight at some festivity.

As her feet touched down on deck, still trying to slow her, her body crashed into him, sending them both falling to the deck. Breath gushed from Bae's lungs as the lithe Emma fell atop him with a monstrous hug.

If she had ever been uncertain about her own internal match for them, the motion had been steeled with his courage that night. Without a doubt now she knew he would always carry that one special place in her heart.

Laughter and chiding and relief all filled her voice as she hugged him tightly in a vice, determined not to let him slip her grip so soon. "Don't you ever do something so stupid and brave again! I thought I lost you!"

"Emma… I." Red fired hotly through his pale cheeks as he stumbled for words.

She had missed him so much?

Hearty laughter from David broke the sweet moment of two friends reunited. Walking with Snow to the _Rose _at a much more placid pace, he gave his daughter another look before focusing his attentions on Belle.

Liberally scratched and scarred from head to foot but no worse for wear, the beauty stood tall and proud in the rosy slants of breaking dawn. Warmth and gentleness and kindness gleamed in her cobalt eyes. She no longer held herself as the cold, indomitable captain. She seemed like a new woman born before them in the sunrise; a phoenix risen from long cold ashes brighter and more blazing than ever.

Beside her, clasping her hand tightly with all the love an affection one could have in a simple touch, stood what had once been the spindly, humble spinner. No longer in a perpetual timid state, his crutch was gone and he stood equally as tall and proud beside the woman. His woman.

Though his skin was tarnished an abhorrent greenish-gray, he cared not for the change and by how close Belle stood to him, neither did she. He hadn't been much of a looker with normal flesh, certainly not with the serpent discoloration, but the captain clung to him like he was an Adonis beneath the glittering scales.

Eyes strafing from Belle to Rumpel, Snow arched a brow curiously. "A lot's changed since that night?" she asked gently but the question came out a simple statement as though she already knew.

"So much has changed…." Belle shook her head sadly as though recalling a sour detail flitting through her memory. "The story is quite a tale to tell. Silver… Silver is dead and Blackbeard will no longer roam the seas."

Blackbeard? The name brought a troubled look to Snow's fair features, but she wisely decided to stray from that vein of questions. What part he played, she was sure Belle would divulge to her some other day.

"We're sorry that you lost Silver. He was a good man," David spoke up reverently in respect to the old cook. "But now that you're back…," he paused, his brow wrinkling a bit. "How did you get back?"

Yes they were more the overjoyed to see their friends, but how and whence had they come? There was no other ship about and certainly the look out would have spied them long coming up the stone dock. Had they just… materialized like fog?

A smile quirked upon Rumpelstiltskin's features at the inquiry. He seemed almost waiting with impatience for the question to arise. Unable to resist the flaunting of his new found powers, the Dark One eagerly snapped his green-gold talons.

A swirl of purple magic danced upon the deck before them like battling snakes in a brawl to the death before dissipating leaving only his old wooden crutch between them.

A hush of awe rippled through the crowed like dull rasp of wind in the sail. Eyes wide they gathered and clamored to see what their spinner, their captive, had wrought for them and what the presentation portended.

Awe marbled Snow's face as she immediately recognized what had occurred with the unexpected power. That had been no parlor trick. The magic that hummed through the air gave no doubt to whence such power had come and from what. "You…." She arched her face up to Belle. "You found the magic?"

"In a way," Belle dodged tactfully and squeezed Rumpel's hand tighter. "But I found so much more than that."

In the end she had found her true love, her soul mate. She had found herself and happiness and joy. She had found a family and gained long sought after answers and a plea of forgiveness and the ability to even, yes, forgive.

In all, she had found oh so much more than the dagger.

She had found life.

Stupefied, Snow shook her head. "What will you do now that you found the magic?"

Surely with such power she could do anything she pleased.

"That's not up to me." Belle tossed her light umber mane. "Rumpel holds the power. What he deems he shall do. I am only here to help guide him and love him with all my heart."

Oh but she was so much more than that! Rumpel wished to proclaim, but emotion clogged his throat at such humble, tender words. Though she owned his heart she would demand nothing of him. She was too good, too kind, too everything.

Clearing his throat, the newly christened Dark One gave Belle a loving look before he spoke to the crew as a whole. "I know why you all joined with Belle and I know the long journey you've been on for the magic that now fills me. Despite being pirates, despite all that has happened you were all like Belle, seeking to make amends or to gather something so precious that you lost. For years now you all have paid the price for the magic you wished to use. This evening, after all affairs have been settled, ask anything you wish and I shall grant you what you have long desired."

Now that he had the power, the only right thing to do seemed to grant them their long sought desires. Any payment for the magic has most assuredly been paid by their long ventures on the sea to seek the magic. They had paid in pain and sweat and everything precious to them all to look for the power in which he now was one.

A roaring cheer loud and lauding and lurid enough to drown out the crash of waves against the base of the Paradise ran through the crew. Fists rocketed to the air as well as weapons as they waved them in ecstatic celebration. Their dreams would be fulfilled their lives finally whole!

Immediately the crew seemed to dissolve into frantic energy. The day would go by quickly for all that needed to be done. They had accounts to put in order, their hearts to settle, they would have to make do and-

Slowly, one by one the realization seemed to spread through them like a disease. Coming to sudden epiphanies they ground to near simultaneous halts and looked at one another with something they had never asked themselves before.

After there wishes were granted they would go their own way.

What then would happen to the _Rose_?

"Captain…." One of the pirates began but choked up even with the thought of the ship desolate.

Shaking her head Belle chuckled lightly through the pain of knowing the crew would be no more in a very few short hours. "The _Rose _will be here for all who wish to stay aboard. There is nothing back for me on land. This ship is my home."

"But what will you do now?" Jefferson asked, his tone bitten with worry.

Belle cast her gaze to the knowing Snow White then the rest of her crew. "I will sail, wandering forever if that is to be my fate. I have no desire to cause others misery now so who knows where or what the _Rose _will do next. I can't promise spoils or treasure or even hope for what you want any more, but the ship will be here, for all who deem to still ride the waves."

Anther cry went up at the security of the ship they had long deemed home. Once again the frenzy boiled over as pirates began to make their last amends and lay out the wish they had long hoped for.

With the crew in an excited frenzy, Bae and Emma disappeared to some unknown lover's alcove, Snow and David nodded their goodbyes and heartfelt relief leaving Belle and Rumpel alone.

Tugging lightly at her hand, the Dark One waded through the rush of happy pirates to his once captors cabin.

Once they were inside, the former cripple shut the door and breathed out a deep sigh. The aura of familiarity surrounded him like a warm blanket, taking away the tensing he felt in his shoulders.

The ship, though he had never considered it his home before felt like a sanctuary after the lunacy and shock they had been through. Odd though true, he was a completely different person than the man who had last been in the cabin.

He was strong now. He had power. He had those he loved finally safe.

"Over… all over! Finally!" Belle breathed in glee and held him tightly in the peace of the cabin. Joy and replete satisfaction filled her as she hugged him. After everything they had been through the journey was all over.

"At long last," the Dark One muttered softly. Burning tears sprang hotly to his eyes with the immense blow of relief finally striking him.

They were safe.

Silence encompassed them for long moments as they simply stood their wrapped in a shroud of love and relief.

At last, however, Rumpel pulled away and looked down at her. A quivering smile festooned his gray-gold features as he spoke with all the love a man could house in his flawed heart. "There is still one thing left to do." Tears stung his whiskey brown eyes as he spoke from the very depths of his soul. "Belle. This… love we share. No one will ever say that this thing we have has ever been natural. We have been through a gamut with our affections and have come out stronger for that. I love you will all my heart. Though I may hold this dagger, this heart will be forever yours and that is more powerful than any steel that compels me. Though you captured me through ill means, I am your willing servant now for you own me through and through with the bindings of your love. Now I ask you. Will you do me the honor of being my bride?"

Hot moisture welled in Belle orbs as she looked up to Rumpel. Her hand grasped the front of his ragged tunic as though she would never let him go. And in truth she never would. "Rumpelstiltskin…. You are too good for this pirate. I do not deserve you, any of you… after all I have down… but I will try. If you will have me as your wife, then yes, I accept with every part of me."

Marriage had only seemed a burden before to Belle, but with him, she saw matrimony as an eternal gift between them. With all his power, after everything they had been through she had thought true marriage out of the question, for how could his love run so deep? But there he stood, asking for her hand in marriage even though she was far than worthy of him.

Swiping a tear from his eye, the Dark One seemed to glow as though her acceptance had lit a fire in him. "I know… usually a man offers a woman a ring for marriage, but perhaps this will do just as well," he supposed aloud, lovingly so, and placed a work worn hand to her chest.

Magic pulsed through his palm as he granted Belle what she had long, too long, had assiduously sought. There would be a witch something angry she had lost a regent, but she mattered not. All that mattered was his Belle.

A gasp shocked through Belle as the power expelled through her chest. Fine fibers of magic like singular strands of silk fluttered through her body nearly making her shiver with the sensation.

She leaned forward only a bit, her breath taken away before… before she felt a beat thud in her chest.

The tears came then, hot and copious as she looked up to him again. Not only had he given her her life, he had blessed her with her heart again.

Placing a hand over her chest, she clutched her tunic as though she could grasp the heart there as she wept tears of joy. She couldn't pay him back for what he had done. Nothing would ever be worthy of him for giving back her heart.

"Rumpel," she whispered his name with longing love and eternal gratitude.

"Belle." He brushed the hot tears from her cheeks.

So close to one another, their lips drifted like magnets. Locked in one another's arms, there and then they sealed their fate and their love.

No matter what happened they would be together on land or sea in best times and hardest of moments.

Forever.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Oh wow another one at an end. This was a very pleasant AU to write. I adore meek Rumpel and kick butt Belle so much. A few notes: I know 'true loves' kiss and all, but since this _is _an AU our Rum doesn't get out of his powers that easy! Also, I debated on writing a wedding, but really we all know what happens afterwards, love, drama, babies! Anywho, thanks everyone who read and reviewed and I hoped you liked reading as much as I did writing. :3_


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